


Of Desperation, Duty, and Delay

by ISeeFire



Series: The Eagle And The Lion [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Erebor Never Fell, BAMF Bilbo, Canon? What Canon?, Dragon Riders are a Thing, Dragons for Everyone!, Dwobbit Bilbo, F/M, Gen, Genderbending, Genderswap, Happy Ending, Slavery, Then you probably have some idea, Unless you read the main story, Villains Who Plan Poorly, You have no idea just how BAMF, always a girl bilbo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-28
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2019-06-17 12:59:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 33,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15461907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ISeeFire/pseuds/ISeeFire
Summary: Happy Hobbity Birthday! I would tell you how old I am but I have it on vague authority that a lady never reveals her age.A big shout out and thank you to Drenagon who helped me with one section, and by help I mean she wrote out a paragraph she thought would work and I copied and pasted it and changed like three words (all with permission, of course!). I'm happy to say exactly what passage it was if anyone wants to know, but not in the notes before you've even read it or you'd be spoiled (and not in the end notes either because I know some of you, upon seeing the "see end of chapter for notes" note immediately click on it before you even read the chapter!). I know this because I may or may not do it myself on occasion! :P :DAnyhoo, I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it! :D :D





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Drenagon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Drenagon/gifts).



> Happy Hobbity Birthday! I would tell you how old I am but I have it on vague authority that a lady never reveals her age.
> 
> A big shout out and thank you to Drenagon who helped me with one section, and by help I mean she wrote out a paragraph she thought would work and I copied and pasted it and changed like three words (all with permission, of course!). I'm happy to say exactly what passage it was if anyone wants to know, but not in the notes before you've even read it or you'd be spoiled (and not in the end notes either because I know some of you, upon seeing the "see end of chapter for notes" note immediately click on it before you even read the chapter!). I know this because I may or may not do it myself on occasion! :P :D
> 
> Anyhoo, I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it! :D :D

Bilba lounged against the rough wood of the pub's back wall, and idly studied the room. There was little to recommend it or set it apart from any other pub she'd been in. Booths with high-backed, worn seats were shoved against the walls for those smart enough to sit strategically, while tables were scattered throughout the center of the room for those who weren't. Candles, lanterns, and a lit fireplace filled the room with weak, flickering light, along with a thin layer of smoke not fully drawn out by the open windows or fireplace flue. It irritated her eyes and lungs, but it was easy enough to ignore.

She'd suffered through far worse in her lifetime.

It was near midday and the room was a quarter full, mostly humans but with a smattering of dwobbits and dwarves as well. Most were in small groups but a handful, like her, sat by themselves, eating quietly or staring off into space, lost inside their own thoughts.

Bilba had finished eating hours ago and had been lounging lengthwise on the bench ever since. One arm was tossed lazily over a drawn-up knee, allowing her to tap a light staccato beat on the hilt of her boot knife. It was her favorite, a black hilt with gold inlay and a razor-sharp blade in a matched sheath. Her sword, which also matched because she'd found she quite liked weapon sets, was braced against the wall next to her, metal tipped sheath sinking into the aged floorboards between bench and table.  

Across the room, near the counter where the bartender was busy filling drinks, the door opened. Bright sunlight spilled in, silhouetting twin figures in the doorway.

Bilba barely reacted, fingers simply moving from tapping against her knife to sliding lightly around the hilt. Her thumb absently traced the cuts in the metal, outlining patterns and markings she knew as well as the scars littering her body.

Her eyes adjusted, and she relaxed as an older, grizzled dwarf and a young human strode in, both wearing light armor with swords strapped to their sides. The older moved with experience, eyes taking in the room at a glance and assessing possible threats. One hand stayed lightly on the hilt of his sword, at the ready as he moved toward a booth that would allow him to sit with his back to the wall while providing an unobstructed view of the room. There was only one other booth that provided a better vantage point than the one he'd chosen, and he couldn't sit there because she already was.

The younger man practically screamed apprentice. He had sandy brown hair and a wide-eyed, open face that lacked experience in anything but listening to tales of glory that had probably given him an unrealistic view of battle. Bilba had never been good at guessing human ages, but he looked young, possibly not even a full adult yet by their standards. He walked with a bounce to his step, and an almost frenetic energy, and she wondered absently if this was his first trip away from his home.

She also wondered what in the world the dwarf had done to warrant being saddled with what amounted to a leg iron that he'd have to cover and protect in any battle, as he was busy trying to protect himself.

Maybe he'd been bored and wanted a challenge?

The young man sat across from the dwarf instead of next to him, putting his back to the room and anyone with the urge to put a dagger between his shoulder blades. It also made it blatantly obvious when he had to twist almost all the way around, repeatedly, to shoot looks at her.

"Leave it," she heard the dwarf say, undoubtedly allowing her to overhear on purpose. "You're nowhere near her league."

The younger man snorted in disbelief. "Why not? She's a warrior. I'm a warrior."

The dwarf chuckled. "That girl is a warrior. You're a brat who can barely hold onto your own sword." He paused as a young woman approached to ask what they wanted, before leaning back against the seat with a sigh. "And I wasn't simply talking about her skills. That girl's out of your league, period."

The younger man muttered something under his breath, clearly unconvinced.

In her own seat, Bilba raised an eyebrow, wondering how in the world he'd figured that out. She'd worn a simple tunic, trousers and boots and the only armor she'd chosen was an unembellished leather cuirass, vambraces and fingerless, leather gloves. The clothing was quality and the vambraces were decorated, as were her sword and dagger but not to a level she would call extravagant. Her scars and tattoos were hidden, except for the ones on her throat and they were low enough to not be obvious, particularly in the dim lighting on the room.

The only luxury she'd allowed herself were two mithril barrettes, that he couldn't even see from his vantage point, clipped into her hair on either side of her head. They were long and thin, and decorated with diamonds and delicate chains. A few of those chains were thicker, and longer, trailing off the barrettes until they curled into and around the intertwined, twin braids she'd plaited her hair into.  

They were practical. The fact they were also pretty was entirely beside the point.

The door opened again, and Bilba easily diverted her attention. A middle-aged human male strode in, tall and thin with short dark hair and an average build. He was average in just about every way, in fact, save the smirk on his face.

His eyes locked with hers, and the smirk widened. He looked away, and then proceeded to stride straight across the room, right past her without acknowledgement, and through a door into a back room.

Bilba resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

He'd certainly built up his ego since the last time she'd seen him.

On the far side of the room, a man with an angular face stood up and approached her. He stopped in front of her, eyes mocking and triumphant as if he'd won at some game he didn't think she'd realized they were playing.

Right, because there was simply no way she'd have _ever_ guessed the guy who'd been there before she arrived, and who'd been sitting there for hours openly staring at her might possibly be involved.

She'd taken up her current position partly so she could stare back. It was fun watching how long he was able to make direct eye contact with her before he looked away.

So far, his record was about five seconds.

He seemed to be waiting for something. Bilba relaxed further against the wall, fingers still lightly tapping on her dagger, and casually arched a single eyebrow.

The man scowled, and then proceeded to sweep into an exaggerated bow.

"If the lady is ready," he said, voice mocking.

Bilba gave him a regal nod, learned from years of watching it done by those who had the right, and then casually pulled her leg up and stood up on the bench. The action made her significantly taller than him and she took a brief second to enjoy the sensation.

She dropped down to the floor with an easy step, which put her nearly a head shorter than him, but that was fine too. Hamstringing someone was a lot easier when she didn't have to bend over quite so much.

She started to reach back for her sword, only to have the man interject, "You won't be needing that, I think."

Bilba frowned, a burst of genuine annoyance racing through her. The last thing she wanted to do was leave her sword behind. If someone made off with it while she was gone she'd lose a bet.

She hated losing bets.

The throbbing headache she'd been nursing since earlier that morning intensified until it became a pounding pain behind her temples. Bilba clenched her teeth, hands curling into fists and, with deliberation, focused on her time in Moria. It was akin to partly ripping open an old wound, but it had the desired effect. The pain in her temples subsided, back to a constant, low grade thrum.

The sycophant spun on one heel and marched off like a steward leading a supplicant. Bilba caught the eye of the older dwarf as she passed their table, as well as the human. He looked like he was about to speak, only to snap his mouth shut as the dwarf put a hand on his arm to silence him.

Bilba made a mental note of the dwarf and set it aside to be addressed later.

She was led into the back room, which turned out to be a midsized storeroom. The door shut behind her as she took in the shelves full of boxes and crates of whatever it was a pub stored in such a room. Several large wine barrels had been arranged in a semicircle around the center of the room. Humans, male and female, were sitting, or lounging against the barrels, and looking at her with what they probably thought were intimidating expressions. All were dressed in cobbled together bits of armor and wore a varied assortment of weapons on their belts and wrists.

In the center of them, leaning back against a barrel in a clearly staged position, stood the man she'd initially seen walk into the pub.

Tamrin.

He pushed off from the barrel and swept into a bow that, if possible, was even more mocking than the one his sycophant had pulled off.

"My Lady," he said, voice smug, "it's been a long time."

Not long enough, Bilba thought, irritated. The last time she'd seen him, in Dale, he'd been assuring her that his attack hadn't been personal, and she, in turn, had threatened to personally return him to the gates of Moria if he crossed her again. She seemed to distinctly recall him insisting he'd never have taken the contract if he'd known it'd bring her after him.

Clearly, the intervening years had not been kind to his intellect.

Deliberately, and simply because she could, she raised an eyebrow in question and widened her eyes, trying to adopt a confused expression.

"Don't give me that," Tamrin said, clearly annoyed. "You won't convince me that you don't remember me." His eyes narrowed. "I certainly remember you."

Bilba couldn't hold back a smile. The memory of dismantling his little criminal organization brought her _immense_ satisfaction.

Tamrin scowled. He gestured behind her and the man from the main room, along with another who'd been standing beside the door when she walked in, stepped up behind her.

Bilba sighed, but obediently held her arms out to her sides as they proceeded to divest her of both boot knives, the knife at the small of her back, the two strapped crossways to her back, and the one strapped to her right thigh.

By the time they were finished, there was a fairly impressive pile of weapons on the floor next to Tamrin, in addition to her cuirass and vambraces. Tamrin looked quite smug, but Bilba was unaffected.

His lackeys had missed four blades, at least.

Tamrin nodded at her wrist and Bilba obediently held up her arm. A bracelet was strapped around her arm, comprised of crude, black twine and milky white stones. The twine had a strange, wet feel to it that never seemed to dry, while the stones themselves pulsed with a faint, unnatural light.

The darkness radiating from it was nearly palpable. It had made her violently ill the second she'd put it on and even with a glove and her shirt sleeve between it and her skin she still felt a roiling nausea in her gut, in addition to the pain in her temples that felt like she had a dragon in her head trying to claw its way out.

A short, wiry man with lank hair and pale skin came forward. He grabbed her hand, much to her distaste, and twisted it up and back so that her palm faced toward the ceiling and was pulled back at a sharp angle.

"She hasn't been in contact with anyone," the man said, voice low and hissing like a snake. It set Bilba’s nerves on edge, and sparked the echo of an old memory, a different voice that had reminded her of snakes and vile things. There was a dark aura around him as if he were cast in perpetual shadow and his skin held a grayish tint she was used to associating with the dead. It was a side effect of the vile craft he and others like him practiced.

Necromancy.

They'd been little more than myth at one time, creatures hiding in the dark and trotted out in stories to warn children against looking too deeply into the shadowed places of the world.

And then, ten years ago, monsters straight out of Middle Earth's darkest history had appeared and nearly wiped out an entire kingdom in a single night. Half of Middle Earth had gone to war against the twisted Valar and Istari, it seemed, but there were always those ready and willing to ignore the truth, no matter how many times they were corrected by eyewitnesses. Rumors had spread, truth twisted, and those obsessed with the desire to control had created their own explanations, and theories about what had happened.

The eventual consensus had been necromancy and, suddenly, tales meant to scare children were coming to life, and targeting any who stood in their way. Some, in search of victims to use in their dark rituals, had been stupid enough to come after hobbits in the Shire, apparently missing or ignoring entirely the presence of the garrison, Rangers, and generally irritable dwobbit relations. They had simply seen hobbits, weak and defenseless and perfect for their rituals, much the same way the orcs saw them as perfect slaves.

They had regretted that decision, and Bilba had added them to her list of things that generally pissed her off, after orcs and before goblins.

For the most part, they'd yet to see any Necromancers who posed any serious threat. Often they would get themselves killed in the pursuit of their dark art before they could do any real damage to anyone. That or their egos would cause them to create so great a spectacle of themselves in villages and towns that it was quite easy to find and deal with them.

This one though, Bilba thought as she studied the wormy man, this one she'd never heard of and if he'd truly come up with what he was claiming...

Tamrin grabbed her wrist roughly to examine it. "Well done," he said to the man standing next to him. "Can she speak to me at all?"

Bilba grimaced. Having a link with him once had been distasteful enough. She'd rather not repeat the experience.

"No," the man said. "The bracelet doesn't differentiate. If it gets activated with you, we'll have no way of knowing who else she might be talking to."

Probably for the best, Bilba thought. She doubted she'd be able to hold herself back from telling Tamrin what she thought of him, in graphic terms. Satisfying, but probably not helpful for the situation.

"Pity," Tamrin said. Then, without warning, he calmly drew back his arm and backhanded her.

The blow sent a burst of pain radiating through the side of her face and dropped her to a knee and one hand braced against the rotting floorboards. Spots danced in her vision and she gritted her teeth as the pain in her temples ramped up until it felt like her skull was about to split wide open.

Bilba focused on breathing and called out every horrible memory she could.

She had plenty to choose from.

Images flooded her mind, of chains and whips and broken bones. The thundering pain in her head began to grudgingly subside, back to a sullen ache at the base of her skull.

Fingers pinched roughly at her chin and her head was yanked around to face Tamrin, who'd come down onto one knee to face her.

"I think I owed you that one," he said conversationally. He pushed to his feet and gestured again. Hands grabbed her arms and Bilba was unceremoniously pulled to her feet.

"You know," Tamrin continued, "I tried to leave well enough alone." His eyes narrowed, and his tone grew harsh. "But it was just so _grating_. Watching Azog's little pet get everything, while I was trapped with the scraps of my cartel. A cartel _you_ ruined."

Bilba rolled her eyes. If he'd invested any time in training, maybe his cartel would have made a better showing of it. It was simply embarrassing how fast she'd gone through them and called into question how he'd managed to make it in the Arena for more than a fight or two.

He certainly wouldn't have lasted if he'd ever faced her.

Tamrin held his hand out and one of the men tossed him a small, palm sized sack they'd taken off her during their search. Tamrin opened it and proceeded to pour a veritable stream of small gemstones, rubies, emeralds, diamonds and more, out into his hand.

Idiot. Bilba watched as the gems poured over the edges of his hand and hit the floor, many bouncing and scattering and quickly becoming lost in the dust, shadows and various items in the room. There was of no hope of him ever recovering all of them.

The thought seemed to occur to Tamrin, who frowned and tried to make a casual show of stuffing the gems back in the bag, managing to lose more in the process.

"Tsk, tsk," he said, shaking his head, as he gave a sharp gesture to several of his people, who immediately dropped to their knees to try and gather up the spilled jewels. "What would people say if they knew their little hero was nothing more than a common thief?"

If he expected Bilba to look ashamed or guilty he was disappointed, as evidenced by the sudden look of irritation and resentment on his face. Clearly this whole thing was not going the way he'd planned. Of course, given the fact that his entire plan seemed woefully shortsighted and was quite possibly one of the singularly worst plans she'd ever seen or heard of, that didn't particularly surprise her. She was halfway convinced he'd spent more time fantasizing about what he hoped her reaction would be to his plan, than in actually sitting down and planning the thing.

Tamrin. shoved the sack into his pocket and gestured yet again, something he seemed to quite enjoy doing.

"I'm sure you already noticed your precious little hostages aren't here," he muttered. "I've left them somewhere safe."

Damn, Bilba thought in annoyance. She'd had other plans when she woke up that morning, and none of this was helping her get back to them. Briefly, she considered beating the information out of Tamrin, but discarded it. She couldn't risk one of his lackeys escaping and potentially moving or even harming the hostages before she could reach them.

Tamrin headed toward the door and Bilba followed. Several of Tamrin's sycophants fell in around her. They were swaggering and smirking as if they truly believed they'd bested her. Bilba made a mental note to personally kick all their asses once this was done, or while it was being done, whatever. She wasn't picky.

As they walked back into the main room, the older dwarf looked up and frowned. Bilba gave a miniscule shake of her head as his eyes narrowed. The last thing she needed was --

The human scrambled to his feet, placing himself firmly in their path, and Bilba mentally cursed in three languages, creatively and exhaustively.

"Is there a problem here?" he asked, voice artificially deep. He had one hand on the hilt of his sword, and his stance was... well, it was simply ridiculous to be honest. Who stood with their pelvis thrust out like that? He was just asking for future back problems if that was how he normally stood.

Before any of them could respond, the dwarf jumped up and smoothly put himself in front of his idiot apprentice.

See, it was _this_ kind of thing that ensured Bilba never took on an apprentice.

"Apologies," the dwarf said calmly. "We were just leaving."

That should have been the end of it, and it would have been, had he not had the single dumbest apprentice to ever walk the face of Middle Earth.

Honestly, she was starting to rethink her assessment of the dwarf. His choice of apprentice reflected poorly on his judgment.

"No, we weren't," the young man insisted. "You look like you're having trouble," he continued, focusing on Bilba. "Do you need our help?"

While Bilba approved of the young man's attempt at heroics, and his refusal to let someone he felt was in trouble simply pass by, she did have to question what, exactly, his plan was. Did he intend to take on Tamrin and all his lackeys by himself? If that was the case, she might have managed to meet two people with horrible planning skills in the course of one day.

Lucky her.

Tamrin wandered over and threw an arm around the young man while his lackeys ranged out until they were surrounding both in a loose circle. The noise in the pub faded away, while the bartender suddenly found himself very interested in cleaning the stained countertop.

For the first time the young man seemed to realize just how outnumbered he was, and his expression faltered. Bilba exchanged a look with the dwarf, who looked as exasperated as she felt. He still had his hand on his sword but removed it when Bilba gave a slow shake of her head. It wasn't that she didn't think him capable of taking on Tamrin and his lacking-in-standards minions. It was more that, if he did, Tamrin and his goons might die and she'd lose the chance to beat the hostages' location out of Tamrin.

"You know," Tamrin said with false cheer, "I think she _does_ need help. You should join us."

One of his lackeys grabbed the human's weapon, while the dwarf allowed his to be removed. They were shoved in behind Bilba and now she had those two to worry about in addition to the rest of it all.

Great.

She was beginning to regret getting out of bed that morning. 

As they passed the booth she'd spent the better part of her day sitting in, her eyes were drawn to the wall where she'd left her sword propped up.

The section of wall that was now conspicuously bare.

Huh.

Fancy that.


	2. Chapter 2

Tamrin led them outside where a large, tarp covered wagon waited. There were also horses, reins being held by yet another sycophant because the name Orcrist apparently didn't inspire near the level of fear and trepidation that she'd thought it did.

Bilba made a note to work on that.

The group broke along an invisible line, some heading toward the wagon while others went to the waiting horses. A hand on her shoulder pushed Bilba toward the wagon and she grit her teeth and clenched her hands into fists to resist removing said hand from the arm it belonged to.

Mahal, but that would be satisfying.  

The human apprentice moved toward her, as if he planned to try and help her into the wagon but fell back when Bilba gave him a look that, by all rights, should have dropped him on the spot.

So he _could_ take a hint. Maybe he wasn't entirely hopeless after all.

There were no benches inside the wagon so Bilba moved to the back and settled against the clapboard and portion of tarp that separated where she was from where the driver, most likely Tamrin, would sit. The tarp was too thick for her to attempt stabbing him through the back, a pity, but that meant it was also too thick for him to stab her so that was at least one less thing she had to worry about.  

Bilba draped her arm back over her knee again, fingers now tapping against her leg instead of her dagger, and tried very hard to regulate her temper before she snapped and killed someone.

Tamrin. Before she killed Tamrin.  

Granted, she had every intention of killing him no matter what, just not before he'd taken her to the hostages. An image of their mother, frantic and near despairing as she pleaded for help, flashed through her mind. Before she could stop it, the memory shifted, merging with her own mother's despair as she'd watched Bilba beaten yet again for some infraction or another. It had been near the end of things, when the beatings she'd endured had increased as her mother's health had decreased.

Bilba's mood, if possible, darkened further. This was her fault. Tamrin knew her weaknesses and had targeted an innocent mother and her children to get at _her_. He was an idiot who probably couldn't get out of his own bedroom without help but, in one area, she did have to give him credit.  

He knew how to get her attention.

Several of the sycophants glanced her way as they climbed in and she locked eyes in response, daring them to try and sit anywhere near her. The last one to get on was the necromancer, who returned her gaze with a cool, almost amused gaze, that had her skin crawling. In the end, she was the one to break the look, not from fear but out of a simple understanding that he would never look away and she had others to keep an eye on.

She could still feel his gaze on her, like an insect she couldn't brush off, skittering along her skin. The bracelet on her wrist grew colder, and it took all her willpower to not rip it off and throw it as far from her as she could. She felt contaminated just by having it on.

The Valar certainly had a twisted sense of humor, she thought in resignation. When she'd gotten up that morning, she'd made a halfhearted wish for something to come up that would require her to be somewhere, anywhere else. Not for the entire day, just most of it, until people stopped insisting on wanting to speak to her, push her in one direction or another, or force her to sit for hours on end while they prattled on about whatever the Valar it was they were prattling on about.

Nowhere in _any_ of that had she wanted, even for a second, to be trapped in an enclosed space with a physical embodiment of evil and a group of morons who probably hadn't showered in the last year.

The dwarf dropped down heavily beside her while his apprentice sat against the wall on her other side, close enough that his legs would touch hers if he stretched them out.

He wisely chose not to do so.

Together, the two were effectively bracketing her, and Bilba felt herself bristle in response. If they thought they were protecting her like she was some sort of helpless waif then so help her --

Correction, so help _them_.

The cart jerked and rattled and then began to move forward at an excruciatingly slow, and bumpy, pace. Bilba was used to a far faster, and smoother, mode of transport and felt her gut clench at the realization of just how long it was going to take for them to get anywhere. She'd had _plans._ This whole thing had started early, and she'd been confident it'd be done with by no later than noon.

It was just past that now, as Tamrin was a bastard who had no respect for schedules and if he made her late then she would _find_ a way to kill him, resurrect him and kill him again.

Slowly.

The members of Tamrin's group started chatting amongst themselves as if they were on a damn picnic while Bilba tried to see how shallowly she could breathe. The tarp had been pulled shut at the rear of the wagon, for no other reason than pure sadism as far as she could see, and the air soon grew stagnant and stuffy in addition to unpleasantly rank.  

Bilba sighed in resignation and dropped her head against the tarp.

At least it couldn't get much worse.

The apprentice, who was copying the way she was sitting for some bizarre reason, cleared his throat in a manner that could only be described as strangely awkward.  

"So, um, you don't have to be worried," he started, looking and sounding exceedingly nervous, "we'll make sure nothing happens to you."

Apparently, it _could_ get worse.  Briefly, Bilba considered giving up one of her knives just for the pleasure of lodging it in the tarp next to his head. The thought was entertaining, but she reluctantly rejected it after a few moments. It'd probably result in her being searched all over again, which was irritating to begin with even before considering the fact she'd lose her remaining blades.

Then, of course, there was the fact she'd made a half-hearted promise to tone down the reckless displays of whatever.

She wasn't entirely sure because she'd tuned it out pretty early on, but she did remember the reckless part and imagined that revealing she was still armed in a cramped space, surrounded by people who wanted her dead probably fell under that definition.

"Anyway," the apprentice continued, clearing his throat again, "I'm Warven, and that's my master, Darnor. What's your name?"

Was there any wiggle room in that promise? She'd only given it to make the lecture stop, so maybe that meant it didn't really count?

On her other side, the dwarf, Darnor apparently, shifted. "You really think now is a good time for small talk, brat?"

"I'm just trying to help her feel better," Warven insisted. "Look at her, she hasn't said a word this whole time. That's how scared she is."

One of Tamrin's sycophants laughed from the other end of the wagon. "She can't speak, you idiot. She hasn't got a tongue."

Warven blinked. "She what?"

"You ain't ever heard of Orcrist?" another man asked. "You been living under a rock or something? I never met anyone who hasn't heard of her."

The man who'd spoken was looking at her with a mocking expression. Bilba held his gaze steadily and felt a measure of satisfaction as the look slowly began to be replaced by a nervous one.

"Orcrist?" Warven looked at her, eyes wide with shock. "Her?"

Bilba arched an eyebrow, wondering just what he meant by that.

Darnor snorted next to her. "If you're looking to make friends, insulting her probably isn't the best way."

"I wasn't--" Warven sputtered. "I mean I--" he stared at her some more before saying, "I just always pictured Orcrist as...older, you know? And more battle-scarred and....not quite so..."

"She's got scars on her face," one of the other sycophants said. "Are you blind?"

"I hear she's covered in them," one of the others, a squat, stocky man said, speaking up for the first time. His eyes roved her body as he spoke and Bilba felt her skin crawl. Mentally, she made a note to kill that one personally. "Maybe we should check to see if it's true."

"Maybe I should gut you where you sit."

Bilba blinked, momentarily confused to hear her thoughts said out loud, and in a male voice. Then she realized it had been Darnor who'd spoken and was looking for all the world like he was fully prepared to take on everyone in the wagon, armed or not.

Bilba decided she really liked him.

The man who'd spoken looked ready to test the threat, but a quick look around showed no one else in the wagon appeared particularly interested in starting a full out brawl in the confined space. He sat back with a disgruntled grunt. "Whatever, slut's probably so cut up that the orcs would be the only ones who'd want her."

The words triggered a not-so-old memory, and Bilba clenched her teeth.

_"Oh please. She may have been fun at first, but everyone knows the only reason he wants her now is power."_

_"I don't know. He seems pretty smitten, and you never hear any rumors. You don't hear rumors about any of the royal family, in fact."_

_"That's called discretion, dear. Trust me, no one wants her for her looks. The second he gets a really good view he's going to be looking for a royal mistress, and I plan to be ready."_

_"I wouldn't think something like that would appeal to you."_

_"You know what appeals to me? Royalty, and the power and wealth that come with it."_

Bilba scowled at the flash of pain that darted through her. Fantastic, she was surrounded by so much stupidity it had become contagious. She knew better. She did. She hadn't been self-conscious about her scars in _years,_ and she knew better than to listen to a jealous tart.

She _knew_ better, but it wasn't much help to the obnoxious inner voice doing its best to convince her there was truth to the hateful words.

Damn it all. Now she was even _more_ pissed off.

Her eyes caught on the necromancer who, to that point, had been sitting in silence near the back. He'd been staring at her since she'd first walked into the storeroom in the inn and was continuing to do so now. He seemed amused at her ability to hold his gaze without flinching.

"Dragons?"

The word jerked her attention back to the conversation flowing about her. Warven was talking to Tamrin's hirelings as if the lot of them were friends around a campfire instead of prisoners and the thieves and murderers who'd imprisoned them.

Beside her, Darnor looked as if he'd happily beat his head against a brick wall if there was one to be found.

Bilba might well join him.  

An older woman with graying hair tied into a messy bun, shrugged. "That's what they say. I don't believe it, myself." Her eyes focused on Bilba, as if daring her to argue. "How could one person be bonded to _every_ dragon? It doesn't make a lick of sense."

Says the non-rider, Bilba thought in annoyance. Besides, she _wasn't_ bonded to every dragon. Only the ones that had been alive ten years earlier, and the numbers had been down at the time because a certain bastard fallen Valar had wiped a huge number of them out as a show of just how much of a bastard he was.

Because everything that had happened before that moment hadn't made it abundantly clear already.

There were many more dragons now, and many she had no bond with. The birth rates among the elven, dwarven and human dragons had risen, making up for the losses caused in that one moment over Mordor. Once the populations reached a certain point, the birth rates would fall off again to a level Middle Earth could support. It would be a strange thing when that time arrived. She'd gotten so used to baby dragons galloping along every corridor that to not have them --

Pain sliced into her temples, and the sick feeling in her gut intensified until she had to clench her teeth against the rush of acid flooding her mouth. On her wrist where the bracelet lay, ice seeped through her shirt, winding around her forearm in veins so bitterly cold it almost felt like her skin was being burned rather than frozen.

She managed to raise her eyes enough to see the necromancer still staring at her. His eyes, openly gloating, fell to her wrist. Bilba had pulled her arm close to her chest, drawing her knees in as she did, but forced herself to move the arm and drape them around her leg again, revealing the bracelet, and still white stones to the necromancer.

The barest flicker of disappointment crossed the man's face before his attention was drawn away by one of the other idiots in the wagon. They'd moved on to discussing a theory about whether dragons were actually intelligent or if it was just riders lying in hopes of preventing a non-rider from trying to train one for their own purposes.

It was a truly idiotic theory and seemed to get dumber every time she heard it so, with a sigh, Bilba leaned back against the wall and tarp of the wagon and did her best to tune them all out. The thundering in her temples was bad enough without having to listen to asinine conspiracy theories.

"His parents helped me out in a tight spot," Darnor said suddenly, voice low enough to not be heard over the rest of the chatter in the wagon. "I owed them, and they asked me to train the brat as repayment."

Bilba looked to where Warven was animatedly arguing whatever his point was with one of Tamrin's men and raised an eyebrow at the dwarf.

He sighed. "I'm beginning to think what they asked was far more than what I owed."

Bilba nodded. It was probably one of the first things said since this whole thing started that she agreed with.

Wholeheartedly.

 

***

 

Bilba woke up to the feel of armor and a strong arm under her face and upper body. For a brief second the familiar feeling had her convinced everything had been a terrible dream and she was back home where she belonged.

Then the smell hit her, and she wondered just how tired she had to have been to not only fall asleep in her current situation, but to then wake up in public without instinctively having a weapon in her hand.

Opening her eyes, she pushed to a sitting position with a frown and an apologetic look toward Darnor, whose arm and shoulder she'd apparently co-opted for her nap. On her other side, Warven, half shrouded in darkness, was staring at her with a look that could only be described as jealous pouting.

Wait, half shrouded in darkness?

Bilba's heart jumped in her throat at the realization that it appeared to be early evening, if not later. The wagon had come to a stop and, without thinking about it, she scrambled forward on her hands and knees, shoving past the idiots to push open the tarp at the back of the wagon.

The burst of fresh air was welcoming. The sight of a wooded landscape, cast in heavy shadow, and a sky lit with streaks of brilliant orange and red hues, was not.

Sunset.

She'd missed the entire day, and that meant she'd slept straight through _everything_.

A deep sense of sorrow and guilt settled inside her but, alongside it, came a deep, almost overpowering anger. It burned like a liquid fire, scorching along her veins and sending a rush of heat through her body.

Tamrin appeared from around the edge of the wagon, smirk firmly in place. Bilba leveled a look at him, and watched as, for the first time, his expression wavered.

Bilba had been angry before.

Now?

Now, she didn't have words to describe the level of rage she felt.

She jumped out of the wagon, landing on the hard-packed earth with a thump of her boots and strode up to look Tamrin in the eyes.

He towered over her, but it didn't stop him from swallowing hard, or suddenly looking nervous before he nodded in the direction of a thin path leading into the woods. "This way."

Bilba started walking, posture so sure and confident she might as well have had all her weapons and armor on, rather than a simple tunic, trouser and boots. Tamrin was forced to hurry to keep up with her and, behind, she could hear the rest of his crew struggling to get out of the wagon and catch up.

The shadows lengthened quickly as she walked, but it didn't matter. Through the trees ahead she could already see the telltale flicker of a campfire and she set her course straight toward it.

She was done with this entire day.

When she broke through the trees it was to find herself in a large clearing. Tamrin had still more men and women gathered around the fire, because apparently there was simply no shortage of idiots willing to do almost anything for money.

On the far side of the clearing, and the fire, Bilba caught sight of a haphazardly placed pile of boxes and supplies. Firelight flickered off the steel bars of a cage to the left of the stack and she started toward it, only to stop as Tamrin's hand landed on her shoulder.

"Not so fast. There's something I forgot to mention." Tamrin's smirk was back. His people from the wagon swaggered past, along with the necromancer who was still studying her with the same look she imaged a predator might its prey. Darnor and Warven were led past as well, kept to the side of her and several feet away.

Without warning, Tamrin kicked her in the back of her legs. The blow sent a shockwave of pain through her legs and caused her knees to buckle, sending them crashing to the hard-packed dirt beneath her. One of the men who'd been gathered around the fire bent down and grabbed something near his feet. When he straightened, Bilba could see he'd picked up a set of manacles.  

Tamrin gave a low whistle and, at the edges of the clearing, Bilba saw movement as shadowy figures stepped into view. Bilba knew what they were even before the firelight caught them. She'd fought, and lived with, their kind so long she'd known them in her sleep.  

Orcs.

Dozens of them, from every direction. A look over her shoulder showed them coming from behind as well, until the clearing was surrounded by a ring of the creatures. They postured and moved restlessly, every one of them armed and looking ready to kill. Bilba didn't see Azog but hadn't really expected to. He wouldn't want anyone, least of all her, thinking she mattered, even if the size of the bounty he had on her suggested otherwise.

Tamrin's people began to shift uneasily, and Bilba wondered if they hadn't known about the orcs, or if they were just now realizing how poor a decision it had been to get involved in the whole mess to begin with. Orcs enslaved humans, they didn't make deals with them and they certainly didn't honor those deals.

Tamrin took the manacles from his sycophant and knelt in front of her. "I still owe you for wiping out my cartel, and the bounty on your head is almost obscenely high. You can't really blame me, can you?"

Bilba rolled her eyes, and his narrowed. He'd probably expected shock and betrayal, possible even fear if he were very, very lucky.

What he was actually getting from her was the emotional equivalent of about damn time.  

With an angry mutter, he grabbed one of her wrists and jerked it forward, preparing to snap the manacle on. "You know what your mistake was?" he growled as he struggled to get the manacle unlatched. "Believing I'd actually keep my promise. Why take the ransom, when I could have it, the bounty on you and my revenge all at once?"

Bilba tilted her head, lightly arched one eyebrow, and smiled at him.

Tamrin froze, incredulous, before suddenly snarling something and reaching for her other wrist. He grabbed the bracelet still wrapped around her forearm and jerked at it.

"I wouldn't do that--" the necromancer started to say from where he stood near the fire, only to stop as Tamrin cut him off.

"What does it matter? It's too late now and, besides --" Here he paused to look her in the eyes and sneer. "She's not the only one who crossed me. Let them hear her pleas for help and suffer knowing they'll never get to her in time."

Mahal, but he was melodramatic, Bilba thought.

Tamrin gave a final tug and the bracelet slackened, unwinding and pulling off her wrist like a clinging snake. For a second, the headache and nausea increased until she had to clench her teeth against the stabbing pain in her temples.

And then the bracelet was off, and along with it the pain and nausea, both evaporating like fog in the rays of the morning sun.

Tamrin mentally rapped on her shields, aggressively, and she accepted the link with distaste.

"There," he demanded, leaning forward until he was uncomfortably close. "Do you want to plead now? Beg for my forgiveness? You're too late. I've planned years for this, watched it play out a thousand times. It always ends the same way, you being dragged back to the Arena in chains, where you belong."

He stopped, and an awkward silence stretched as the two stared at each other.

 _Oh,_ Bilba said finally. _Are you finished? I was waiting for the rest of the speech._ She settled back on her heels, putting a little distance between her and him, before continuing. _First off, I don't beg. Second, you were so helpful in pointing out my mistake. I thought you might like to know what yours was._

Tamrin blinked, confused. "My mistake? I made no mistakes. I already told you. I imagined this a thousand times, watched it --"

 _I heard you the first time._ Bilba corrected. Dear Mahal, the last thing she wanted was to encourage him to repeat himself or, worse yet, embellish. _Even so, you did make a mistake._

"Is that so?" Tamrin's tone was mocking, but there was just the slightest hint of worry and self-doubt in his eyes. Perhaps he did possess some measure of self-awareness after all, not that it was going to help him. He straightened and lifted his chin. "And just what was this mistake you think I made?" He asked with all the false bravado of one who was mostly sure he'd won.

Bilba's smile broadened and she leaned forward, as if sharing a secret. _Your mistake was believing I **actually** came alone._

A burst of wind whipped past her cheek, barely ruffling a few strands of her hair before a meaty thunk sounded.

Tamrin looked at her with a frown, and then down where the shaft of a very large arrow protruded from his chest. Blood was already spreading outward, soaking through the material of his shirt and creating an ever-expanding pool of dark red.

The manacle he'd been holding dropped from his hand, pulling the improperly latched one from her other wrist as it did. They hit the ground with a clank, the only sound in the clearing as Tamrin swayed in place. He lifted his head, and his eyes, already glassy and quickly losing their focus, fixed on her.

"You bi--," he managed to wheeze out, voice a thready whisper. He swayed once more and slowly fell over and landed on his side. His chest rose and fell, slowly, a few more times and then, very simply, stopped moving all together.  

Bilba sighed in disappointment. _Damn it, Kili. He made me wait all day. I was looking forward to gloating._

 _Sorry,_ his voice replied in her head. _There was a crosswind._

 _Vili wouldn't have missed,_ Bilba grumbled.

_Ouch, that was uncalled for._

_You deprived me of my gloating. I think it was very called for._ Bilba pushed to her feet, and pulled two of her remaining four daggers out, holding them loosely in her hands. Tamrin's people, and the orcs, were all still staring in surprise, or shock, but that wasn't going to last. Her eyes fixed on the metal bars of that cage on the far side of the fire, and she started planning just how she was going to get from where she was to there, and in the shortest time. Her eyes caught on Darnor, and he gave her the slightest nod, body already angled toward one of his armed captors, who'd made the fatal error of standing far too close.

 _Here's an idea,_ she sent. _How about you get down here and bring me my damn sword?_

 _You know,_ Kili said, _you get cranky when you haven't slept._

 _I get cranky when I have plans and morons with vendettas decide to ruin them,_ Bilba shot back. _Now get down here._

_Yeah, yeah, we're coming._

One of the orcs roared, breaking out of his stupor and charging forward. This seemed to break the rest of them out and then Bilba had orcs, and humans, coming at her from all sides.

A rush of pure exhilaration ran through her and she grinned in genuine delight.  

This was going to be _fun._

 


	3. Chapter 3

Bilba focused on where the firelight glinted off the bars of the cage, past the attackers currently rushing headlong at her.

 _You think you can clear a path,_ she sent sarcastically, _or will the wind be a problem?_

The only response was a volley of arrows flying past her. They slammed into the orcs and humans directly in front, and to both sides. She heard the meaty thunks as the shafts struck home, and then the thuds as the bodies hit the ground. Not all were instant kills, but they'd at least be out of her way. Behind them, the second row of attackers hesitated, not wanting to risk the same fate.

 _Better,_ Bilba sent. _Let me guess, that was Vili?_

Kili's reply was short, to the point, and rather rude.

Bilba smirked and shut down the link.

She did need to focus at some point.

Rushing footsteps came from behind her. She crouched, and easily sent the first orc flying right over her shoulder. She then spun and drove her dagger into the gut of the one running up behind her. Given their penchant for not wearing armor, one would think orcs would reconsider that practice of rushing enemies.

The orc staggered and fell to one knee, curled around his stomach and the blade embedded there.

The blades Tamrin hadn't found were short, and rather thin. This meant the blow wouldn't kill the orc, but it would make him suffer and ensure he was out of the battle. It also meant retrieving her blades would be difficult, and dangerous.

In other words, one blade down, three to go.

Two more orcs were already coming. They'd bothered to think a little and were trying to flank her.

 _Down_ , Kili's voice ordered in her head.

Bilba obeyed, dropping easily to one knee, hands braced on the ground.

A thunk sounded overhead and she looked up to see an arrow that had been sent straight through the throats of both orcs.

 _Bet my father couldn't have made that shot,_ Kili said smugly.

Bilba pushed to her feet, just in time to drive the two daggers she was holding into the chest and throat of another orc. Footsteps came from behind her and she spun, hand going to the small of her back for her final knife.

She didn't reach it in time. The orc slammed headlong into her, proving that perhaps their technique wasn't entirely bad after all, and knocked her clean off her feet.

The blow was hard enough to make her bones vibrate. She hit the ground, barely managing to move her arm before she landed on it and risked snapping it with her own body weight.

The orc's shadow fell over her as it came at her, arm upraised and firelight glinting off the piece of junk it carried that barely deserved to be called a sword.

Bilba braced her arms on either side of her body, rocked up and planted her feet in the center of the orc's chest. He couldn't stop in time and she used his forward movement to rock back and send him flying right over her.

Proving there were some orcs smarter than others, this one had the presence of mind to hold onto his sword and send it sweeping down at her as he went over. Bilba jerked her head to the side just in time to feel the whisper of steel rushing past the side of her head. The blade sank into the soft ground next to her, close enough for her to nearly touch if she put her head back.

She'd literally missed adding a new scar to her face by a hair's breadth.

The thought reminded her of the conversation she'd overheard between the chit and her lackeys back in Erebor, and her mood immediately soured back to where it had been when she'd first stepped off the wagon and realized night had fallen.

She pushed up into a crouch. She had her final blade in her hand an instant later and turned...only to pause in surprise at the sight of Darnor pulling his sword out from the now dead orc on the ground. Warven stood next to him, nearly bouncing on his feet from excitement. He held his sword in one hand, blade perfectly clean and polished.

 _Oh,_ Kili said in her head. _Are they on our side? I almost shot the one._

 _Yeah._ Bilba pushed to her feet, grimacing. Her head felt like it was about to split open, the headache she'd been sporting all day only marginally better with the removal of the Mahal cursed bracelet. _I probably should have mentioned that._

 _I should have gotten that last orc,_ Kili returned. _Sorry about that._

Bilba shrugged. _I won't mention yours if you don't mention mine._

The area immediately around her was devoid of things trying to kill her so she took a second to wipe the sweat off her brow and catch her breath.

The rest of the orcs, she noted absently, were currently locked in combat with Tamrin's men, which really shouldn't have been a surprise to them but undoubtedly was anyway. The bounty Azog had on her was obscenely high for one simple reason - he had no intention of ever paying it. Granted, she'd have recommended killing them on their way home and making it look like a robbery but Azog had never been known for his patience.

 _Where is everyone?_ she asked.

 _Working on it,_ Kili replied. _There are more orcs in the woods. They're having to fight their way through._

Bilba nodded. Kili had been shadowing her all day but the others had stayed back avoid tipping off Tamrin or his merry band of morons.

 _Can you still not hear them?_ Kili asked.

 _No._ A wave of uneasiness rushed through her. The bracelet was off, why was she still blocked?

 _You couldn't hear me before, but you can now,_ Kili said, picking up on her unease. _It probably just takes time to wear off._

 _Yeah._ Keeping her eyes on the fighting in front of her, Bilba crouched and retrieved the sword that had nearly sliced half her face off. It was a piece of junk, but it was better than the only dagger she had left.

"Are you all right?" Warven asked worriedly. He stepped forward, blade propped over his shoulder because he apparently like the idea of accidentally cutting himself and saving the orcs the trouble. He was standing far too close as he asked, towering over her and looking down. Bilba briefly considered demonstrating how bad an idea it was too stand so close by kneeing him but decided against it. She was a bit short on allies at the moment.

Choosing to ignore him, she got Darnor's attention and then used the sword to point across the fire.

He nodded. "After you, my Lady."

The slightest hint of a smile pulled at the corner of her lips and Bilba took a second to roll her shoulders in a futile attempt to work some of the tension out. Her stomach grumbled at her, reminding her how long it had been since she'd eaten, but she ignored it. Just one more thing she had no time to worry about.

 _Be careful,_ Kili told her. _I'll need a new vantage point, it'll take a few minutes._

Bilba shook her head. _Don't worry about me. Go back up the others._

She frowned at Warven and then raised an eyebrow at Darnor.

"I'll keep an eye on him," the dwarf replied. "Don't worry about it."

"Hey," Warven said. "I know how to fight!"

"There's a difference between knowing how to fight and having actually fought, brat," Darnor retorted. "Now shut up and keep your eyes open. We're about to have a whole mess of folks trying to kill us."

Also known as a normal day for her, Bilba thought dryly.

She studied the clearing, picking the quickest and easiest route to the cage. Just because the orcs and Tamrin's lackeys were currently fighting didn't mean they wouldn't leave off to attack her as she passed so she'd need to stay on guard.

Route in mind, she set herself and started forward.

It became almost rote after that. She'd been doing this for years, and often in much worse health, without weapons and completely on her own. Attacking, blocking, diving forward or back, it was all second nature and, nowadays, often was done with armor and weapons of the highest quality.

It gave her a certain cockiness that she was vaguely aware of but usually gave little thought, largely because she'd gotten so used to fighting as part of a _much_ larger unit, with much better equipment.

It left her with a certain level of admitted complacency that did little to affect her fighting.

Until it did.

She reached the cage in record time, skidding the last few feet on the grass and coming to a stop on her knees. The door to the cage, thankfully, had been secured with thick rope instead of chains and it took only a few minutes to saw through the rough fibers. She pulled the door open, flinching at the harsh screech of rusted hinges.

The two tiny forms huddled in the back corner appeared terrified but otherwise unharmed and Bilba let out a sigh of relief at the sight.

 _Get to a safe place_ , she ordered, _and don't come out until I tell you to._

Footsteps sounded behind her, but she didn't bother to look, assuming it was Darnor and Warven. They'd gotten hung up on the fighting several yards behind her but had yelled at her to keep going and they'd catch up.

She assumed it was them rather than take the two seconds needed to check and make sure it was. She'd also knelt and focused her attention elsewhere in the middle of a battle rather than keeping a constant awareness of her surroundings.

It was a mistake that would have killed her in seconds in Azog's arena.

It was a mistake that very nearly killed her now.

A hand curled in the braid snaking down her back, the one she hadn't bothered to pin up before the fight began, the grip pulling on the mithril strands from her barrettes and causing sharp spikes of pain to run through her head. Then, before she could react, the pain increased tenfold as the hand wrenched, dragging her entire body off balance and backwards.

Bilba barely had time for a sharp burst of panic before her body was being arched back at a sharp angle. A leg braced under her back, preventing her from falling completely, and then firelight was glinting off the blade of a knife over her head. Just past it she caught sight of an orc, sneering in triumph over having gotten the drop on her. 

He was going to slit her throat.

The thought barely crossed her mind before Bilba made her third, and possibly most idiotic, mistake of the night.

She instinctively raised her arm to block the blade.

It was a move she'd never have dreamed of making in the arena for the simple reason that she'd never had armor there. In the years since, however, she'd gotten used to it, wore it constantly and always kept it in perfect condition.

Putting on armor had become second nature, as natural as getting dressed in the morning, and such a standard part of her daily routine that she managed to forget entirely that Tamrin had taken it from her back in that stupid storeroom.

All of it, including the vambraces she'd been wearing to protect her forearms.

The pain of the knife slicing through flesh and muscle was scorching, a sharp river of fire that blazed through her arm and set every nerve on edge. She felt the tip impact bone, embed for an instance and then slip and skate down the underside of her arm where she'd had it raised in defense. The nerves in the rest of her arm reacted, sending the pain upward, pooling it in the curve of her elbow before it finally came to rest in a throbbing, ache in her upper arm.  

She cut the pain off from her bonds, locking it down until she knew the only one who felt it was her. The last thing she needed was for anyone else to get distracted, and subsequently hurt, thanks to her own stupidity.

Her shoulder hurt, right in the juncture between it and her neck as her arm had managed to deflect the blow just enough to change it from killing to glancing.

Above her, the orc snarled something she didn't catch. It yanked the knife free and then dragged on her hair, wrenching her back at so sharp an angle it felt like her spine would snap. The movement dragged her head down until she could barely see the orc's face anymore. It also left her neck exposed and made it difficult to breathe. She felt like she was drowning, black spots dancing in her vision as her body fought for air.

It was pure instinct, born from years of experience, that had her reacting as the blade came down again. She could barely see it, but the glint of it registered, the swift shadow as it plunged down, and she was barely able to get her hands up and grab his wrists.

Pain blistered out from her arm and she let out an agonized cry from between clenched teeth. She pushed with her feet against the ground, trying to shove off the orc's knee but he had too tight a grip on her, and her feet ended up simply scrabbling uselessly against the dirt.

He tried to force the blade down and she fought to keep it back, the tip of the blade mere inches from her jugular.

She could die here.

The thought crossed her mind, and a deep sense of panic set into her bones. Panic, and anger. This was her own damn fault. If she hadn't been so stupid, so damned cocky --

If she'd only taken better care of her responsibilities so they couldn't be used against her by fools with grudges...

The blade inched closer and she let out a sound that was a mix of fear, anger and despair. It felt like she'd been fighting for hours but she knew, realistically, it had probably been less than a minute. Darnor hadn't fought his way through yet and Kili was too far away to help.

If only she'd waited...

The pain in her arm increased as the orc leaned forward, using his body weight to force the knife down. Her sleeve was dark with blood, running down the length of her arm, drops falling out and landing on her face as she struggled to focus through the darkness slowly encroaching on the edges of her vision.

 _Adad,_ she called, desperation lacing her tone. She didn't even know if he could hear her, if he was even anywhere near.

The tip of the blade touched her throat.

Idiot.

Getting killed by a rank and file orc of all things.

It was _pathetic._

 

The orc's head exploded.

 

Bilba blinked, mind not processing what had just happened. Blood sprayed on her face and over her body, and then she was falling. The blade vanished, her back hit the ground with a heavy thud and she grunted in pain as the orc landed across her upper body and head.

The creature had been large in life and his weight nearly crushed her, forcing what little air she'd had left in her lungs out. Blood clogged her mouth and nose and the overwhelming stench of the orc's unwashed body would have made her gag if she'd had the energy and ability to do so.

She tried to gain some purchase with her hands to push the thing off, but they'd been trapped between her and the thing's chest and she couldn't free them. Once again, she braced her feet on the ground and tried to push, hoping to gain the leverage to get it off, but she couldn't get the right angle to move it.

Suddenly, she didn't have to.

One second the thing was on her, crushing her chest, and the next second it was simply no longer there.

Bilba inhaled sharply and rolled onto her side, curling in on herself as she gasped for air. Through the slowly clearing haze in her mind she caught sight of a pair of booted feet in front of her, their owner faced away.

_You all right?_

She nodded and pushed up on one elbow, ignoring the way her arm screamed in protest, and grabbed onto her father's leg with the other, using it to pull herself up to her knees. He reached back with one hand and she grabbed it, allowing him to drag her to her feet.

Dwalin stepped past her to retrieve one of his axes from what was left of the orc's head.

Bilba pulled a handkerchief from a pocket and cleared the blood off her face and upper body as best she could. There was a mix of it already liberally coating her, not just from the orc but the various other orcs she'd had to get through as well as several of Tamrin's lackeys. Its presence was probably why her father hadn't yet noticed the blood soaking her sleeve was hers.

Darnor ran up, pale faced, with Warven right on his heels. "Are you all right? We tried to make it, but those damn things are tenacious."

"Are you okay?" Warven pushed right past Darnor as if the other hadn't even spoken, eyes wide and panicked. He raised his hands as if to touch her, only to instantly drop them as Dwalin made a sound that could only be described as a growl.

Darnor turned to him and inclined his head. "I'm Darnor, and this is my apprentice, Warven. We've been honored to make the acquaintance of Orcrist."

"Damn straight you have," her father grumbled, and Bilba resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

Instead she ran her uninjured forearm across her forehead before sweat could get in her eyes and add still one more problem, and then looked back toward the cage. It was empty, and she felt her shoulders slump slightly in relief. At least she'd gotten one thing right that evening.

The cage and other supplies had been on the very edge of the clearing, removed from the fighting that was still taking place several yards away. Bilba could see quite a few faces she recognized now and felt still more relief that the tide of things seemed to be turning.

Feeling eyes on her, she turned to see her father studying her with a frown. "Stay here," he ordered. "We can take care of the rest."

With that he turned and strode out into the fray, axes held in both hands. Behind him, Bilba bristled. She'd screwed up, but it didn't make her incompetent. Warven and Darnor were both studying her, and she felt her face flush with embarrassment.

She dropped to her knees and used the knife that had nearly killed her to slice off a section of cloth poking out from the stack of supplies. She wound it around her arm, gritting her teeth at the pain. A new wave of sweat broke out on her brow and nausea raced through her but she swallowed it as she tied off the end near her wrist. The blood was already slowing, though the sheer amount staining the sleeve was worrying.

She pushed to her feet, shakily, and turned in time to see Fili approaching from behind Warven and Darnor.

In the ten years they'd been together his body had filled out and grown leaner and more muscled, transitioning from what the humans would have called a teenager to a fully realized adult. She'd grown too, tall enough that the top of her head reached the bottom of his jaw, a fact she very much enjoyed even if, as he pointed out, it still meant she was short.

Unlike her, he was still wearing his light armor, gleaming in the firelight, his hair pulled back from his face and moving with the ease of one who clearly hadn't had a blow land on him. He had a few splashes and splatters of black orc blood on him, but she swore they only served to make him look more like a warrior. 

Even as her heart gave its, by now, customary jolt at the sight of him, Bilba became painfully aware of the fact that she didn't look anywhere as good as he did. She was splattered in blood that simply made her look disgusting, was grimy with dirt and sweat and the orc had pulled her hair so that it was half dragged out of the barrettes and chains meant to keep it in place.

Barrettes that had been a betrothal gift from Fili, intricately designed and made and not intended to be worn into battle. They were supposed to be for the ceremony, in fact, but she'd been so intent on getting out and rescuing the kids that it had never occurred to her to change her hair or remove the barrettes.

They were undoubtedly ruined now, so covered in blood that nothing would ever get it all out.

Warven moved to stand between her and Fili, and she saw Fili's eyes darken. Before he, or Bilba, could say anything, Darnor grabbed his apprentice by the sleeve and forcibly jerked him out of the way.

Fili strode past them as if they weren't even there and stopped in front of her. "Are you all right?"

Bilba gave him an annoyed look and then reached for the jacket he'd worn over his armor and jerked it open to fish in one of the inside pockets. _I hate Mahal damned Tamrin. I hate Mahal damned orcs and I hate this entire stupid day."_

She found what she was looking for and jerked her hand back out, revealing the two hair clips she'd grabbed. Fili had begun carrying them back when she'd first decided to start wearing her hair down more often, citing her inability to remember to carry them herself.

"That well, huh?" Fili asked.

Bilba unclipped what was left of her two braids from where they were still, barely, twisted together, wound them around her head and clipped them firmly in place.

"Are those the barrettes I gave you?" Fili asked suddenly, and Bilba froze.

_Maybe. I forgot to take them out._

Just like she'd forgotten to protect her charges and forgotten to be on guard and not get cocky in the middle of a _goddamn_ battle.

Fili frowned. "I can probably clean them." He shrugged. "If not, I'll just make you new ones."

New ones, but not in time for the ceremony, Bilba thought. That is, if they even had one. Who knows, maybe he was secretly happy they'd missed it. Maybe this whole thing had come as a relief for him. A way out of a relationship he'd enjoyed as a youth, but no longer wanted as a mature adult. That certainly was the rumor around Erebor, wasn't it? One of many.  

_"Trust me," the words she'd overheard from Erebor ran through her mind. "No one wants her for her looks. The second he gets a really good view he's going to be looking for a royal mistress, and I plan to be ready."_

The mocking words of Tamrin's lackey added on for good measure. _"Slut's probably so cut up that the orcs would be the only ones who'd want her."_

Fili held up her sword, which she hadn't noticed he'd been carrying, with a grin. "I had your sword picked up for you, looks like you lost the bet."

Bilba snatched it from him in annoyance. The wound to her arm, thankfully, had been to her non-dominant arm which was probably the only thing that had really gone right the entire day so far, aside from rescuing the kids of course. _It doesn't count if you stole it,_ she told him, voice sharper than she'd intended.

Fili's eyes narrowed again. "Are you sure you're all right?"

Bilba almost told him the truth.

Almost.

That, no, she was most definitely _not_ all right.

That her headache wasn't getting better _nearly_ quickly enough, that her arm was on fire and she'd lost so much blood that her legs were shaking slightly beneath her. That she was angry at herself for screwing up, repeatedly, and that, most of all, she was _pissed_ that her mind wouldn't let go of the words some idiot, little courtesan had said in a moment of spite and jealousy.

She almost told him but didn't.

Instead, she gave a very deliberate look toward the clearing and replied, _I'll be fine when the orcs are dead._

"Then we should probably get onto killing them," Fili answered, drawing his own sword. He looked at her much the same way her father had and said, "you should stay here. We can handle it."

Bilba tensed but, before she could reply, Warven was suddenly there, somehow managing to wedge in next to Bilba and slightly in front of her. "It's okay," he said. "We can look after her."

Fili blinked at him as if seeing him for the first time. "Who in Durin's name are you?"

 _An admirer,_ Bilba shot at him in irritation. _Looks like you aren't the only one who gets them._

He frowned at her, apparently the only expression she was capable of invoking in him at the present. _I'm aware of that._

 _Are you?_ Shut up, she ordered herself. For the love of Mahal, just shut up. You're going to ruin everything. Once the words had begun, however, it was like they couldn't stop, they just came out of their own accord. _Or maybe the only reason you have me around is you figure you'd never have to worry about me cheating on you. Who else would want me, right?_

She wanted to take the words back the second they left her mouth. It was yet another one of the stupid rumors floating around the palace, created by a handful of envious chits with nothing better to do than gossip. It was stupid, beneath her. She should be above such things, just let it roll off her back like the meaningless garbage it was.

Fili was staring at her, eyes wide.

Bilba didn't feel like waiting to see if he would agree with her or not. She shook her head and turned toward the fighting. She grabbed the knife the orc had attacked her with again and held it loosely in her free hand, sword in the other, and picked her first target. _Whatever,_ she sent when she realized he wasn't going to respond at all. _Just forget I said anything._

She took two steps forward and plunged back into the fray, easily blocking a blow with the dagger and using her sword to slash across the chest of the one who'd attacked her.

She shut it all down after that. Focused on her breathing, on keeping her feet under her and on not dying like an idiot. Take down one enemy, move onto the next and the next after. Her world telescoped down to the sound of her own breathing in her ears and the pain lancing through her arm and shoulder.

 _There a reason you're fighting like you're back in the arena?_ her father asked. _I thought I trained you better than that._

Bilba ignored him. All of this was on her, she was simply cleaning up her own mess before someone got hurt, and it had to be quick or she wouldn't be able to stay upright long enough to see it done.

She drove her weapons into the chest of an orc and then dragged them back out again as it slowly sank to its knees and then fell over. She twisted, ready for her next foe, only to pause as she realized there were none left in her area.

Around the clearing it appeared most of the major fighting was over, relegated only to a few battles that would soon be done as the orcs and Tamrin's people were now greatly outnumbered by the people Bilba had brought along.

She spotted Fili, locked in a fight with an orc, and saw Kili approaching, already nocking an arrow to his string. Darnor was close to where she'd left him, talking to Warven who looked like the realities of battle were finally sinking in.

Her father and several of his men, Vili included, were cleaning up a line of orcs that had charged late from the woods but, aside from that, things looked to be about over.

Bilba sighed and frowned as her body swayed for a moment before she was able to get it balanced again. She really had lost quite a bit of blood, though she didn't believe it was a life-threatening amount.

She rolled her shoulders again and tried to loosen the stiffness that had set into her neck. She'd had such a tight grip on her weapons that her fingers were practically locked around them and she didn't fancy trying to pry them loose.

A flicker of movement from her left caught her attention. She turned and frowned as another flicker of movement came from behind the trees at the edge of the clearing closest to her. White, barely there and then gone again.

Bilba's eyes narrowed.

White?

Then it came again and, this time, a face with it, barely an impression, there and then gone again.

Azog.

Bilba sucked in a sharp breath, hands tightening reflexively on the hilt of her sword.

Azog?

It had been years since anyone had seen him. He didn't leave Moria anymore, just sat in his hole and sent out lackeys to do his dirty work for him.

The flicker came again, and she knew he was taunting her. She knew he wanted her to go after him, she knew it was a trap and she knew full well she was in no shape to face him.

The flicker came on final time and then was gone, fading into the darkness of the forest.

Bilba stared after it, hand clenching and unclenching on her sword's hilt.

Frerin approached her, idly twirling his sword in one hand. "Are you all right?"

 _For the love of Mahal,_ Bilba snapped in annoyance, _will everyone stop asking me that?_

Unlike Fili, Frerin gave no reaction to her irritation. He simply stopped next to her and looked toward the forest. "What were you looking at?"

 _Azog,_ she said. _He's back in the trees._

Frerin gave her a startled look. "Azog? You're sure?"

Bilba nodded, _It was him._

Frerin grinned broadly. "Fantastic. Let's go get him then."

 _It's a trap,_ Bilba told him. _He's drawing us in._

Frerin raised an eyebrow. "And? We killed all his lackeys. Not to mention we haven't even brought in our first line of defense yet."

That was fair. Bilba spared a glance toward where the others were cleaning up the rest of the fighting.

Then, with a nod, she and Frerin turned as one unit and headed into the woods.


	4. Chapter 4

Bilba stood in the middle of a darkened forest, and seriously questioned her life choices.

She and Frerin had spent a good fifteen minutes chasing tantalizing glimpses of white that Bilba was no longer convinced was even Azog. For all she knew they'd been chasing a rabbit with a penchant for being a furry little asshole.

They had finally split up to try and surround Azog, or the rabbit which she was now just as dedicated to killing. As he'd left, Frerin had made a parting comment of how he'd never taken Azog for the type to dart about between trees like a woman leading her lover on a merry chase.

That was a mental image Bilba could have gone without.  

She hadn't seen so much as a flicker for several long minutes so, with a heavy sigh, Bilba allowed herself to drop down against a tree. She pressed her back to the rough bark of the trunk, bent one leg and drew the other one up so she could drape her arm across it in a futile attempt to disperse some of the weight from her sword.

Had it always been so heavy?

The night was cool, and she relaxed as a light breeze drifted across her face, drying some of the sweat and heat from the battle and run through the woods.

Everything hurt.

It hadn't been as bad during the height of battle, with adrenaline surging through her and her mind preoccupied with not dying. Her adrenaline had long since faded, however, and nothing had tried to kill her in a good twenty minutes, which left her mind with little to do but focus on how miserable she felt.

Her arm was on fire, a sharp, burning pain that radiated into her nerves and sent stinging pricks running up into her shoulder and down into her wrist and fingers. Her legs ached and felt heavy, her neck was sore from being wrenched backwards, she was hungry and literally covered head to toe in muck, blood and grime. It pulled at her skin, made it itch and generally brought back memories of days when being in such a state had been the norm.

She bet the chit back in Erebor had never had so much as a speck of mud on her. She was probably always perfectly put together, not a hair out of place.

Her body felt too heavy to be sitting up, so she allowed herself to slide sideways, turning as she did until her back was being supported by the dirt while her legs were still, mostly, bent and up.

That counted as still being upright, right?

Whatever, she thought, draping her good arm over her eyes, she was too tired to care anymore.

Boots crunched through forest debris.

Bilba frowned. _Frerin? Is that you?_

 _Nope._ That was him, inside her head and that was a good sign that her ability to communicate via mental links was returning, so one plus for the night at least. _Where are you?_

 _Near a tree._  The bootsteps stopped beside her, close enough that she could feel the toes brushing her side. She forced her arm away from her face and frowned up into a flickering ball of light floating just above her face. It moved slightly, and her eyes adjusted, allowing her to see past it. _I think I found the necromancer._

 _That's something, I suppose,_ Frerin returned. _Though I was hoping for Azog. Think you can kill him?_

 _I can arrange for him to be killed,_ Bilba replied.

_Fair enough. Fili wants to talk to you by the way. He says you're ignoring him._

Bilba frowned. Was she? She fumbled in her mind for the link she had with Fili, only to immediately shy away as she felt him respond and try to talk to her.

Apparently she _was_ ignoring him.

"I see by your face you're surprised to see me," the necromancer said with a smug voice.

Not really, Bilba thought to herself, but the idiot wasn't a rider, so she had no way of telling him so. Not that she wanted to, having a link with Tamrin had been bad enough.

The man stood and released the ball of light, which expanded and hovered just above them, casting the area in light. He frowned down at her, and Bilba raised an eyebrow. If he wanted her to summon the energy to be impressed by a floaty light, he should have been faster about it.

With a mutter, the necromancer knelt, grabbed her arm, thankfully the uninjured one, and unceremoniously yanked her to her feet.

A wave of vertigo washed over her, and she staggered, legs buckling under her. Her knees hit the ground with a harsh thud and she sagged forward onto her hands, only vaguely aware she was no longer holding her sword.

 _Bilba?_ That was Frerin again, she thought dully. He was nicer than her father and Fili, who were always asking annoying questions she didn't feel like answering. _Why are you ignoring him, anyway?_

Bastard.

She felt her hands dragged behind her back and grimaced at the bolts of pure fire that raced through her injured arm. Sweat beaded on her forehead and she clenched her teeth to keep from making a sound. She refused to give the necromancer the satisfaction.

 _None of your business,_ she nearly snarled at Frerin. Replying to him took her mind off the pain a fraction, but that didn't mean it put her in any better of a mood.

She was dragged to her feet again and, this time, managed to keep her footing. Her hands were now bound behind her back. The rope was scratchy and bit into her wrists, aggravating her bad mood further.

The necromancer grabbed the collar of her shirt and dragged her body back against his. "I bet you're regretting underestimating me now, aren't you?"

Bilba rolled her eyes. She reached out absently, noting she could feel her father and Fili, neither of whom were currently pleased with her; and then Frerin of course. As for the rest....

A slow smile spread across her face.

The necromancer grabbed the rope between her wrists and shoved her forward. Bilba rolled her eyes again, because it was warranted, and obediently started to walk -- or more accurately, stumble, but whatever.

 _Trust you and Fili to have a lovers’ quarrel before you even get through the marriage ceremony,_ Frerin said in her head, because he was a jerk who refused to let things go.

 _If we even get to the marriage ceremony,_ Bilba corrected, before mentally kicking herself for the slip up.

 _If?_ Frerin asked. _Why in the world would it be if? You having second thoughts?_

Bilba's heart jolted in her chest. _Of course not!_

 _Well, I think it's safe to say Fili isn't,_ Frerin said, _so why wouldn't there be a ceremony?_

Bilba didn't answer. The necromancer was still using the small ball of light to guide them, but all it really managed to do was destroy her night vision. Her feet kept catching on small roots and bits of debris and, combined with her ever-growing fatigue, it was becoming increasingly hard to stay up as the necromancer drove her forward.

 _Bilba?_ He had that tone of voice Fili or Dis or even Vili used when they wanted her to talk about her _feelings_ , and she felt a surge of betrayal. One of the main reasons she got along so well with Frerin was because he dealt with problems the same way she did, by stabbing them until they weren't a problem anymore. _You have a soul bond with him, you'd know if he was having second thoughts._

 _Not if he's hiding it._ She had no idea why she was telling him any of this, except for the fact it had been building to the point where she had to tell _someone_. _Maybe he regrets it but doesn't know how to get out of it._

 _Why would he regret it?_ Frerin asked.

Ahead of them, Bilba saw the trees petering out to give way to a wide, moonlit plain. If the necromancer had the slightest intelligence he'd put out his flaming ball of light. The moon was full, and she could make out enough of the landscape to move easily if she needed to. His light would stick out like a flaming beacon if he kept it up.

 _What happened between you and Opal?_ Bilba asked. She'd liked Opal, a young noblewoman from the Iron Hills, sent by her father in the hopes of securing a link to the throne. Instead of catching the eye of the king, however, she'd caught Frerin's eye. The two had been together nearly two years before, with little warning, Opal had suddenly returned to the Iron Hills, and never come back. No one had ever explained why. She was simply there one day and not the next.

 _Difference of opinions,_ Frerin replied shortly.

Bilba frowned. _It wasn't because of how many scars you had?_

 _What?_ Frerin sounded genuinely startled. There was silence for several long beats and then, _Bilba, you know Fili's seen your scars, right? He was there when you first came in, in the Healing Wards and, Mahal knows, you've been hurt enough since then._

 _He hasn't seen them all at once,_ Bilba retorted sharply. Her annoyance, if possible, increased. She hated having to talk about things like this and wasn't entirely sure how she'd even gotten to this point. _He might take one look and go running to one of those idiot court females always hanging around him._

 _Do you really think he'd do that?_ Frerin asked, voice intense. She knew he had the capability of being serious, but it still always surprised her when he actually went and did it.

Bilba scowled even though she knew he couldn't see it. _Why wouldn't he?_ she replied bitterly. _Those women are perfect and raised to be the perfect mate for someone like him. I'm just --_

 _What?_ Frerin broke in, anger coloring his tone. _Beautiful? Loyal? Brave? Fearless? What idiot said something to you?_

Bilba scowled and shut down the link. She really despised how perceptive he was sometimes. He didn't push her the way her father and Fili did, which she appreciated, but he tended to see far more than they did, which she most certainly did _not_ appreciate.

They broke from the treeline and, proving he was indeed an idiot, the necromancer kept his beacon brightly burning. That should make things easier.

It was a nice night, Bilba thought absently, one she might have enjoyed had things been different. The landscape was reminiscent of the Shire; with gently rolling, grass covered hills and a nearby spring burbling happily along. All of it was tinged in brilliant silver from the full moon, giving it an unearthly feel.

Something rushed by overhead, wind from its passing buffeting her hard enough to knock her back against the necromancer. Bilba grinned as she felt him tense, before tensing in turn as he grabbed the collar of her shirt and dragged her back against him. His arm looped under hers, across her chest, and she felt the ice-cold prick of a dagger being pressed to the hollow of her throat.

Another rush of air raced by overhead and then, without further fanfare, Syrath dropped to the ground in front of them, near enough that the ground rumbled beneath their feet and his body blocked out most of the surrounding scenery. At nearly fifteen years of age, he was several times bigger than he had been at five, and far bigger than most other dragons his own age. He knew it too and was quite happy to use his size to intimidate when needed.

**_Can you hear me yet?_ **

Bilba smiled up at him. _I can now._ She'd started sensing him back in the forest, proving whatever the bracelet had done was indeed wearing off, but it seemed she still needed proximity to hear him and respond.

"Tell it to get back," the necromancer ordered, dragging her even closer against him. "Back or I'll slit your throat, I swear it!"

That would be fairly useless, Bilba thought, since Syrath would just eat him. Still, there was the chance the necromancer had other dark tricks she was unaware of, so she nodded toward Syrath who, begrudgingly, backed away.

"That's right," the necromancer chuckled, because he was stupid enough to actually think he was getting away with something. "You just stay right there. Any wrong moves and I'll kill her."

 ** _He's very annoying,_** Syrath said, and Bilba bit back a sigh.

_I know. I should have killed him ages ago, but I got distracted._

Distracted trying to stop a blade with her bare arm, but he didn't need to know that.

They were past him now, the necromancer angling them, so they were nearly walking sideways across the plain. Syrath stayed crouched where he was, a silver lit mound watching them with glowing eyes.

As they began to move over a low hill, Syrath rose and started almost slithering toward them slowly. The necromancer swore, quite creatively, and jerked Bilba even harder against him, the knife point digging her throat. Bilba felt a prick of pain and a trickle run down her throat. _Idiot's going to kill me by accident._  

It was bad enough a rank and file orc had nearly killed her, getting killed by accident by a moron would just be humiliating.

They were now facing Syrath head on, backing away across the plain. It was awkward given how close they were and Bilba found herself tripping again, which only heightened the possibility of her throat getting accidentally cut.

Without warning, they backed into something and stumbled to a stop.

 _About damn time,_ Bilba muttered. _I was starting to think--_

**_I was being sneaky! Sneaking takes time!_ **

Bilba sighed. _Just eat him already._

Behind her, she could feel the necromancer shaking almost violently. He must be able to feel that what they'd bumped up against wasn't a rock or a tree. For not the first time in her life, she lamented the lack of a tongue that limited her ability to speak to anyone she wanted.

Had she been capable of talking to the idiot behind her, she'd have reminded him of one very, very important fact he'd overlooked.

 

She was Orcrist, and she had more than one damn dragon.

 

The knife at her throat wavered in his terror and Bilba took the opportunity to snap her head backward. It collided with his and she let out a hiss as pain burst through her skull. It was nothing, however, compared to how he probably felt having two mithril barrettes driven into his face and eyes.

That's what the asshole got for making her miss her own wedding.

He screamed and stumbled, arm instinctively moving away from her throat as he simultaneously jerked away from the pain and tried to maintain his balance. Bilba threw herself forward, just barely remembering to hit the ground on her good arm. She rolled onto her back and shoved up into a seated position, just in time to hear the necromancer start to scream as a large, black mass came down over him. A crunch rang out, and the scream cut off.

 _Don't you dare eat him, Varegeth!_ Bilba ordered.

Varegeth froze with his head thrown back, in the process of doing exactly that. **_But you said I could!_**

 _I was in a bad mood!_ She scowled as a fresh wave of pain reminded her she was still bound in a very uncomfortable position. _He practiced dark magic, you don't know what it might have done to him. Spit him out, now._

Varegeth grumbled, but obediently turned to the side and did as he was told. It was too dark to see everything clearly, but not so dark she couldn't see more than she'd ever wanted. **_You let me eat an orc._**

 _Yeah, and you regretted it, didn't you?_ Syrath came up behind her and Bilba leaned forward, trying to give a clear view of her hands, _Can you get these off, please?_

She felt him settle down behind her as, in front of her, Varegeth began to happily frolic about on the open plain. It was probably what he'd been doing before sneaking up on the necromancer. Frolicking was his favorite pastime, next to annoying Syrath. She still had no idea why the other dragon had so attached himself to Syrath, but attached he was and there was no changing it. Where one dragon was, the other could always be found. _Thank you,_ she sent to the smaller dragon. _I appreciate the save._

 ** _See?_** Varegeth rolled on his back and arched so he could look at Syrath upside down. He was still a very small dragon, often mistaken for five instead of ten, but the look was strange, nonetheless. **_I told you I could be helpful. Admit it, you'd be lost without me._**

Syrath ignored him. Instead, Bilba felt him place a claw very delicately on the ropes around her wrist. A second later they loosened, and she shook them off, pulling her arms forward with a groan of relief. _Thank you._

She scooted backwards until she was resting against Syrath's chest. _I'm done fighting for the night. If anything else shows up, just eat it._

She yawned and curled up against him, pulling her legs up and holding her injured arm against her stomach. She still had so much left to do and just the thought of trying to do _any_ of it was exhausting.

Varegeth continued to play, happily filling her head with a long running monologue about his heroics until Bilba began to mildly regret getting her ability to hear him back. At some point his voice faded into a low murmur and she relaxed, falling into a light doze.

She didn't know how long she stayed like that before she was suddenly snapping awake with a gasp, muscles tight as her subconsciousness responded to...something.

Syrath hadn't moved, and Varegeth was now curled up next to them, sound asleep. He had no sixth sense whatsoever, a fact Frerin was forever despairing of.

Footsteps, Bilba realized suddenly, that's what she was hearing, coming from the forest behind them. Footsteps, and if Syrath wasn't reacting to them it could only mean --

A shadow appeared and strode toward her, resolving itself quickly into Fili. He had a set look on her face, the sort she usually only saw when she'd gone and done something particularly stupid like goblin hunting by herself at night.

Granted, that had all been Frerin's idea but, technically, she had been told to wait for him. It wasn't her fault he took longer to get ready than a court woman.

"So," he said without preamble, "I think you and I need to talk."


	5. Chapter 5

_Damn it, Syrath,_ Bilba thought crossly. _I thought I told you to eat anyone else who showed up?_

Fili gave a snort of amusement that suggested Syrath had relayed what she'd just sent, and she glowered up at the dragon in betrayal.

That only lasted a second as Fili slid his hands around her calves and tugged her forward. "Come here."

Bilba gave him a dirty look that she hoped conveyed a sense of irritation and not the extreme misery she currently felt. The _last_ thing she wanted to do was move, for at least a week if possible. Syrath wouldn't mind.

Fili raised an eyebrow, and Bilba sighed in resignation. There was really no way to get what she wanted without admitting to getting injured, and she'd rather avoid having to do that if she could.

Fighting to move without grimacing in pain, she started to uncurl herself. _I'll get blood all over you_ , she cautioned, hoping it might dissuade him.

"You know, I did _some_ fighting," he replied dryly, gesturing down at the splatters of blood and grime on his armor and body. "I don't just stand around looking pretty, regardless of what your father says."

 _No, that's just a bonus,_ Bilba muttered, mostly to herself. She moved until she was seated across his legs. It was probably not the most comfortable position for him, but he was the one who'd wanted it, so he only had himself to blame.

Fili draped his arms loosely around her waist and Bilba did her best to look like she was naturally keeping her injured arm against her chest, and not like it had stiffened to the point where moving it would be difficult.

"So," Fili started conversationally, "you were under a lot of stress long before today, right?"

Bilba gave him a confused look but nodded in agreement. He knew the only thing she hated more than crowds was being the center of attention.

Their wedding would be both.

When it had come to her Coming of Age Ceremony, she'd managed to convince them to just have a small celebration with those closest to her rather than an enormous thing like Fili's, and later Kili's, had been.

The same wouldn't work for the wedding. Fili was royalty and practically couldn't sneeze without first declaring a state event. It would be a thousand times worse than his Coming of Age, or the endless ceremony she'd had to stand through after defeating the asshole, Gothmog and his sycophant all those years earlier.

The royal family had done their best to mitigate it for her. They'd invited everyone she knew so the crowd would be filled with familiar faces and trimmed it to be the shortest ceremony in history. They were also holding it outside, so she'd be literally surrounded by dragons, and all of that helped, it really did.

But none of it changed the fact that every eye there would be trained on her and Fili.

"Then this whole thing happened," Fili continued, drawing her attention back to him, "which both pissed you off and left you feeling misplaced guilt on top of everything else."

 _How was it misplaced?_ Bilba cut in. _Tamrin was after me, not them._

"Tamrin," Fili said carefully, "is...or was, an asshole. This was _his_ fault, not yours."

Bilba kept silent, not because she agreed with him, but because she was too tired to fight him on it. Given the look he was sending at her, he was fully aware of what her silence meant.

Perhaps he was more perceptive than she'd given him credit for. That was annoying.

"Regardless," he went on, giving her an exasperated look. "You then spent the day cut off from the rest of us, stewing in your own head, which is never a good thing, and being infected by Mahal only knows what thanks to that thing strapped on your wrist."

Bilba raised an eyebrow at him, deliberately mocking his earlier expression. _And? I assume you have somewhere you're going with all this?_

"That I do," he said with far too much cheerfulness given what they'd gone through that day. "Taking all that into consideration, I want you to ask yourself one question." He shifted and tightened his grip around her, pulling her closer until he could press his forehead against hers. "Did you doubt me yesterday?"

The words took a few seconds to register. When they did, her eyes widened in surprise. Yesterday felt like it had taken place an Age ago. She could remember being stressed and anxious about the wedding...but also happy. She'd been nervous too but, then...then...

 _I talked to your mother,_ she said slowly. _I forgot about that._

She _had_ talked to Dis, for hours in fact. They had talked about the wedding, her concerns and fears, even the wedding night, which should have involved far fewer orcs but, given that it was her, she probably shouldn't have been all that surprised in hindsight.

She'd even told Dis about what the idiot noblewoman had said. Dis had rolled her eyes so hard Bilba had worried she'd hurt herself, and then demanded the chit's name so she could have the entire family exiled. After that, they had had a _very_ long conversation about the injuries inflicted by words, the jealousy of spoiled tarts, and how she hadn't raised her son to be shallow and think of scars as anything less than the marks of survival they were.

 

Bilba blinked in surprise.

 

Oh.

 

_Oh._

 

How had she forgotten all that?

 

"I hate necromancers," Fili said, as if reading her mind. "It's too bad Varegeth killed him already. I'd have liked to do it myself."

 _Agreed_ , Bilba sent fervently as she slid her good arm around his neck and kissed him. He was certainly in favor of that, pulling her in even closer and kissing her back just a bit more aggressively than usual.

"Sorry," he said, pulling back a few minutes later, breathing heavily. "I was just--" he waved his hand absently, and Bilba bit back a smile. It was his wedding too, and he was every bit as frustrated over having missed it.

 _Not exactly the wedding night you had in mind,_ she told him.

"No," he said with a sigh, "but at least the orcs were outside this time around. I don't think my uncle would have appreciated them being inside, again."

 _Probably not_ , Bilba agreed. She sighed and let herself sag to the side and off his legs. He braced her, until she was lying on her back beside him. _Can you feel your legs?_

"You're not that heavy," Fili said dryly. He shifted and grimaced as blood started circulating back to his lower body again. "I'll live."

Bilba laughed. Overhead, a vast canopy of stars stretched out and she sighed at the sudden yearning to be among them. Several other dragons were up there already, Xalanth and Sardin among them. Idly she reached out, and suddenly her mind was there, looking through their eyes as they rushed through the night air.

Peace flowed through her and she felt her body relax. She hated being on land and spent as little time with her feet on the ground as possible. It helped that she was bonded to so many dragons. It was rare that there wasn't at least _one_ in the air at any given moment, and that fact allowed her to devote at least part of her mind to being up there with them pretty much exclusively.

Movement caught her attention and she reluctantly pulled her mind back to see Fili braced partly over her, arms on either side of her body. "You know," he said mildly. "Sometimes I worry that, one day, you won't come back from that. You'll go up and, just, never come back down again."

Bilba slid her good arm around the back of his head and pulled him down to kiss her again. _I'll always come back,_ she promised. _You're here._

He shifted, until he was completely over top of her, blocking out her view of the night sky, and kissed her harder. She barely had a chance to move her arm to hook up around his back, however, before he was pulling back with a quiet curse. At her confused look, he gave her a rueful grin. "Dwalin. Can I block him out, yet?"

Bilba laughed as he settled back beside her again. _Only if you want Frerin or your brother to be king._

"True," Fili said with a sigh. He flopped down on the grass with a groan and draped an arm over his eyes.

It occurred to Bilba that neither of them had been paying the least bit of attention to their surroundings, and that they were currently both completely exposed. It said a lot, she supposed, about how instinctively they trusted the dragons to keep them safe. She reached her good arm out again, and Syrath lowered his head to nuzzle at her, eliciting a laugh.

He nudged her lightly. **_What's wrong with your arm?_**

Bilba stiffened and gave him an innocent look. _I don't know what you're talking about._

Fili shifted beside her. "Her arm?" He turned to look at her, and Bilba glared up at Syrath.

_You are such a tattletale._

**_Only because you insist on not telling anyone when you get hurt,_** Syrath retorted unapologetically.

Fili was looking at her as if seeing her for the first time, which was both mildly insulting and probably also difficult in the dark. "Just how much of that blood is yours?"

Bilba rolled her eyes. _I didn't keep track._

"Bilba." His voice was almost a growl, which he probably meant to sound annoyed, but usually only served to make her stomach tie itself in rather impressive knots while her heart simultaneously did a backflip.

It was _possible_ that, on _occasion_ , she might have annoyed him on purpose just to get him to use that tone.

Just once or twice...a month, or so.

She pressed her hand into the grass to try and push up to a seated position. Fili helped her, then slid his arm around her waist and pulled her to a standing position. A wave of dizziness washed over her, and she sagged, legs buckling under her. Fili cursed and crouched to slide his other arm under her legs. Bilba just managed to get her good arm hooked over his shoulders before he straightened, lifting her in one, easy motion.

Another wave of dizziness washed over her, along with a rush of nausea this time. Bilba squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her jaw, before burying her face against his neck. Her entire body briefly went slack, and she let out a slow breath as she struggled to not pass out entirely.

Fili held completely still, giving her the chance to recover. The nausea slowly started to quiet down, and the dizziness faded. Usually, this was the about the time she'd demand to be put down and insist she could walk on her own.

Instead, as she regained control of her body, she simply tightened her arm around him, pulled herself up higher, and curled in closer against him.

Screw walking.

 Fili frowned. "I didn't see you take a hit. Your father says he didn't either."

 _You told my father?_ Bilba accused. _Bastard._ He didn't respond, and she huffed in annoyance. _You weren't there, and he got there a bit after. I hurt my arm._

"How?"

Bilba rolled her eyes and, rather than waste time telling him, simply showed him instead. He gave a low hiss and turned toward Syrath. "We need to get you back to Erebor."

 _We need to go back to the clearing,_ Bilba corrected sharply, pulling back to look him in the eye. _I told the kids to hide and not come out until I told them. Good luck finding them on your own, they're the size of peanuts._

"I think they're a little larger than that," Fili said dryly. He scowled, eyes turning back the way they'd come, and she could almost see him mentally calculating how long it would take to get back. The clearing itself was also too small for the dragons, which meant they'd have to come back here yet again in the end to get back to Erebor.

She bit back a sigh. Being carried was nice, but probably hadn't helped her in the long run. If she'd insisted on getting down, it might have gone a little farther in convincing him that she wasn't about to collapse.

It would probably still go a long way if she got down right now and insisted on at least standing on her own.

Yeah, it would probably be very helpful to just...get down...and stand on her own two feet right about now.

Very helpful.

Fili was watching her with narrowed eyes, and she had a sneaking suspicion she was far too focused on blocking out the pain from the injury he already knew about, and not nearly focused enough on blocking out her current thoughts from leaking over to him.

 _I promised,_ she tried finally. _I said I'd see to it personally. And I already invested so much time in it,_ she added as it occurred to her. _You can't send me away at the very end._

Fili sighed and looked away again, toward the forest. "Dwalin is going to kill me," he muttered. His eyes came back to her. "You might as well stop blocking me. I can at least help with the pain."

She obeyed and bit back the sigh of relief as the pain immediately lessened. She could feel Syrath mentally nudging at her so, with a second sigh, this time of resignation, she stopped blocking anyone. They were going to find out about it soon enough anyway.

Her father was first, as expected. _I warned you about getting lazy._

Bilba rolled her eyes. Fili started walking and she shifted in his arms, getting a better hold on him as he moved. _I learned my lesson._

_You're lucky you weren't killed. Letting you duck training was clearly a mistake._

Bilba sighed. She could feel the underlying worry and concern and knew his irritation stemmed from that, but it didn't mean she was looking forward to getting her ass kicked in training as soon as she'd recovered.

 _Sorry, Bilba,_ Frerin's voice came, guilt lacing it. _I should have realized you were hurt._

 _I can make my own decisions,_ Bilba retorted. _It's fine._

The last of the pain from her arm vanished as her dragons and other bonds pulled it away from her.

As they reached the edge of the forest, a shadow detached itself from the trees, resolving into her father. Fili grumbled, but didn't resist as Dwalin pulled her into his own arms and began striding back into the forest.

 _I'm not a doll,_ Bilba complained.

 _No, but you are an idiot,_ her father returned. _You hid an injury, and then ran off into the woods after what you hoped was Azog, knowing full well you weren't in any shape to face him._

 _Frerin was with me,_ Bilba grumbled.

 _Frerin's a bigger idiot than you are,_ her father retorted sharply. They were nearing the edge of the clearing, and he slowed down, before coming to a complete stop just before they would have broken out into it. Fili came to a stop beside them as well, one hand resting absently on the hilt of his sheathed sword.

That reminded her that she'd dropped her sword in the forest, and she made a mental note to get someone to look for it before Fili found out and claimed she'd lost the bet.

She looked up at her father, who was staring straight ahead, jaw set, and felt her stomach twist in guilt. He'd already lost her mother, and then she went and put herself in more danger than needed. He'd trusted her on this mission, and she'd let him down.

She pushed herself up in his arms, wrapped her good arm around his neck as best she could, and kissed him on the cheek. _I'm sorry, Adad._

She pressed her face against the side of his and felt the barest pressure back as he returned the gesture. _Don't do it again._

 _I won't,_ Bilba promised. Even as she said it, she knew she probably would do it again at some point. She was impulsive and tended to fall back on bad habits more often than she liked to admit. Still, she would try, and had no doubt Fili, Dwalin and Vili would be more on her back than normal to ensure she did a better job.

 ** _And dragons,_** Syrath told her happily. **_We'd have stopped you this time if not for the stupid necromancer._**

Fair enough, Bilba thought. She did tend to do better when she had a literal crowd inside her head telling her to knock it off when she started getting overly reckless.

Her father shifted his weight suddenly, and then carefully put her down on her feet. Fili made a noise of disapproval but held his peace as Bilba got her feet under her. She was still exhausted, but the brief nap with Syrath and being carried back had given her a modicum of energy. She held onto her father's arm until she was sure she had her feet under her. Then she straightened, put her chin up and strode into the clearing.

The fighting was well and truly over, leaving little but crumpled corpses and the wounded behind. Bilba saw a few of Tamrin's people had survived and were currently bound and on their knees on one edge of the clearing. The rest of the people from Erebor were going around, checking on the dead to make sure no one was simply lying in wait.

From what she could see, Erebor hadn't lost anyone, much to her relief. She was also fairly sure the worst injury might have been to her arm, because working for a kingdom meant her people got better equipment and training than the idiots who'd chosen to work for Tamrin.

She could feel her second wind waning fast, so she headed toward the far side of the clearing. She already knew where the kids were, they'd been doing the mental equivalent of curling up against her shields since she'd crossed back into the open.

A figure stepped in her path suddenly, and she was forced to draw up shortly or risk running into them. The action sent a spike of pain and protest through her body as it resisted having to do anything with any sort of speed.

She barely registered it was Warven who'd cut her off, before Fili spoke in her head, voice angry. _That's it. I'm tripping him on my sword._

 _I don't think that's how tripping works._ Bilba replied tightly, trying to use the distraction of talking to him to get her pain back under control. Even as the thought crossed her mind, the pain was gone, drawn off along with the rest by her veritable dragon army.

"Sorry," Warven said, apparently realizing, belatedly, that he'd nearly caused her to run into him. He was lucky she hadn't been armed. "I was just worried about you. I'm glad to see you're all right."

He put out a hand as if to touch her, only to awkwardly abort the action as she moved to avoid him.

 _I'll have my uncle issue a decree redefining how tripping works,_ Fili said in her head, sounding almost unnaturally cheerful _And **then** I'll have him trip on my sword. _

Warven opened his mouth, probably in an effort to stick his foot in it, only to stop as Darnor appeared as if from nowhere beside him. He was looking past her, and she found out why a second later when Fili appeared beside her. That action triggered her father to appear, as he tended to get twitchy when any of the royals decided to start interacting with complete strangers who hadn't first been vetted by both him and Nori, twice.

Fili didn't argue when Dwalin stood at his right shoulder and just in front of him, crowding Darnor and Warven's space. Darnor got the message and immediately took a few steps back, dragging his idiot apprentice with him.

"So," Fili said, in his I'm-Now-A-Crown-Prince voice, "these are the ones who helped you?"

Before Bilba could respond, one of the Ereborean soldiers approached, and dropped to a knee. "All the enemy forces have been dispatched, Your Highness," he reported dutifully. "We're attending to the wounded now and preparing to return to the mountain."

Fili gave the barest inclination of his head. "Thank you. Dismissed."

The soldier got to his feet to leave and Bilba bit back a grin. Her father simply looked long suffering.

Darnor, in turn, was staring at Fili in wide-eyed shock. "Did he say, Your Highness?"

"Hmm?" Fili turned to him with an arched eyebrow. "I'm sorry. I forgot we haven't been properly introduced. Fili, son of Dis, daughter of Thrain, crown prince of Erebor, at your service."

 _Did he just identify his bloodline through his mother?_ Vili's voice asked in her head and Bilba had to feign a cough to cover up an outright laugh.

 _I heard it,_ Kili responded. _That means I'm your favorite now, right? Right?_

Darnor dropped to one knee, head bowed. After a second, he grabbed Warven and dragged the teenager down next to him. The young man looked mutinous but stayed down. "My apologies, Your Highness. I'm from the Blue Mountains and didn't recognize you.

"Clearly," Fili said dryly, "seeing as how you also failed to recognize my uncle or brother."

 _Trying to save face now, are we?_ Vili's voice asked. _Too late, I'm leaving my favorite sword to your brother._

 _Excellent!_ Kili replied happily.

 _Do you think,_ Dwalin said mildly, deliberately allowing them all to hear, just as Vili and Kili were. _That you could perhaps not mention the fact that over half the idiot royal family is currently out in the open and gathered in one, convenient spot?_

 _Did you order that guard to come give you a useless report,_ Bilba asked, ignoring everyone, _just so you could have him identify you as a prince?_

 _Of course,_ Fili answered her. _How else was I going to casually work it into the conversation?_

"You were of great service to my betrothed," Fili continued out loud. "You have my thanks."

 _That's it?_ Frerin said. _You have my thanks? Shouldn't it be, on behalf of Erebor, blah, blah, blah?_

 _If he wants on behalf of Erebor,_ Fili growled back, _then maybe he should stop trying to pursue my fiancée._

 _The dwarf isn't doing anything,_ Frerin replied casually. _Just the kid._

 _He brought the kid,_ Fili retorted. _I blame him._

 _Now you know how I feel with all those idiot court girls,_ Bilba broke in. She hadn't told Fili what she'd overheard the noblewoman saying, but it was no secret that many of the court women had their eyes set on Fili, betrothal or not. Given that, hearing one proclaim they wanted to become his mistress after their marriage shouldn't have come as a surprise to her. It was tiring though.

Fili frowned at her. _Perhaps there should be greater repercussions to that. They're disrespecting you and dishonoring themselves in the process._

 _Shall we have them trip on a sword?_ Bilba asked mildly. Not all of them, of course. There were several noblewomen she actually _liked,_ a few she even considered her friends.

 _Probably not,_ Fili replied, sounding disappointed. _But we can make it quite clear to their families that the actions of their daughter have caused them to lose massive amounts of favor in the eyes of the royal family. That should do it._

True enough, Bilba thought. Favor with the king and the hope for more power was the reasoning behind many of their actions. Having it threatened should go a long way in convincing them to change their behavior. _Thank you._

He gave a slight nod. _I apologize for not thinking of it sooner. I should have handled it long before this._

 _I'd like to see Darnor offered a spot in Erebor's force if that's all right with you,_ Bilba sent to her father. _He might do well in Vanguard even._

 _I'll look into it,_ her father responded.

Bilba gave an absentminded nod and left her father and Fili to it. Fili might be jealous at the moment, but she'd never known him to be unjust and besides, her energy was still continuing to wane fast. If she didn't get back to her original goal soon, she'd be out of the energy to do it at all.

She refocused on her goal, a large tree at the far edge of the clearing. Darkness surrounded it, leading back into the larger forest and Bilba frowned, imagining lurking orcs and other creatures they'd missed hiding just out of sight and waiting for someone stupid enough to walk over alone. She had no weapons on her and was half dead on her feet. She'd be a prime target.

Remembering her promise to her father, she reached out, and quickly found herself surrounded by Vili, Kili and Frerin. Frerin wrapped an arm around her waist and she returned the gesture, trying to make it look like simple affection and not like he was supporting a good amount of her weight.

They made it to the tree, and she leaned her hands against the rough bark. _Come on, you guys. It's safe to come down now._

Nothing happened for a few minutes, and then a tiny shadow moved on one of the lower branches. A moment later, an almost impossibly tiny form began to slowly and carefully scoot backwards down the trunk toward her.

Fili stepped up beside her, head raised to watch the progress of the tiny form. _Maybe I should --_

His voice cut off as, with a tiny squeak of surprise, the figure lost its grip on the tree and proceeded to fall right off. Bilba sucked in a harsh gasp, but Fili was already moving, reaching up and easily catching the plummeting figure in both hands.

"There we go." He stepped away from the trunk and held out his hands, carefully transferring the small creature to her good hand.

The baby dragon was a newborn, barely a week old. One of the dragons Men rode instead of a drake, the small creature was half the size Syrath had been at birth, so small she barely registered his weight in her hand. He lay curled on his back staring up at her, scaled a mottled green and gray, delicate wings curled under him.

 _I want a baby human dragon,_ Bilba stated flatly.

 _You have human dragons,_ Fili said dryly. He was looking up the trunk, watching a second tiny figure slowly scoot down.

 _I don't have any baby ones,_ Bilba groused. Her youngest dragons were ten years old.

 _You don't need more dragons._ The second baby was struggling to climb down backwards, and finally just gave up entirely, clinging to the trunk and squeaking forlornly. Fili gestured toward Kili, who came forward, and knelt to give Fili a hand up.

Before he could, Vili grabbed his shoulder and stopped him. "Let's _not_ have the crown prince of Erebor make himself a prime target, shall we?"

Fili rolled his eyes but obediently held back as Vili stepped into Kili's linked hands, pushed up and quickly retrieved the second baby from the trunk.

 _You can never have enough baby dragons,_ Bilba muttered. The baby in her hand seemed to agree, squeaking happily before carefully rolling over and scooting up her arm to settle on her shoulder.

His sister, even smaller with black and gray scales, was placed in her hand a second later, and Bilba felt herself finally, fully relax.

 _All right,_ she said tiredly. _Let's go home._


	6. Chapter 6

Bilba had been invited on an early morning picnic once by a few of the court ladies she was friends with. When she'd told Fili he'd simply said, "Oh, that should be fun," and then conveniently had a council meeting the day it was planned. Her father had sighed when she'd told him, while Kili had started laughing.

Frerin had been visiting Gondor at the time so she had no idea how he'd have reacted, though she liked to imagine it would have been with a bit more _loyalty_.

This was because, on the morning of the picnic, she'd gotten up, bathed and dressed in under fifteen minutes and gone to wait for her friends.

She'd waited...and waited...and waited some more.

Finally, she'd headed to the closest girl's quarters, half assuming an orc attack or some other calamity had delayed her, only to find the young woman still sleeping. A check on the other girls had revealed only two awake and in the process of choosing which gowns they felt like wearing.

In the end "early morning" had turned into afternoon and Bilba had learned a very important life lesson.

Nobility was incapable of doing anything quickly.

It was for this reason that she wasn't surprised when, nearly ten minutes after rescuing the baby dragons, she was still standing near the edge of the clearing, babies perched on her shoulders, watching her father, betrothed and the rest of the royal family scurrying about doing...whatever it was they were currently doing.

To be fair, she had no doubt they were unaware of how much time had passed. To them, it probably only seemed a moment or two. There was also the fact that with her pain being shared amongst so many dragons and humans it was virtually impossible for any one person or dragon to feel it, meaning it was just as easy to forget it all together. For them at least.

For her, though the pain might be gone, she was still suffering from heavy blood loss and exhaustion and now a general feeling of resentment because, no matter what, there was always one person she could count on and for him to fail her in this specific situation when she was battling between throwing up or falling down was --

Her train of thought cut off as an arm slid around her waist. "Come on, kid, what do you say we get you out of here before you fall over?"

Relief flooded her and Bilba turned a look of pure adoration on Vili before promptly leaning on him in a way that she really hoped looked affectionate and not like he was now supporting most of her weight.

 _I want to go home,_ she said, voice as near to a whine as she ever allowed it to get. _I have to get the babies back, and then see if Nori tracked down who took Astrith's mate._

Vili tightened his grip around her waist in order to firmly steer her toward the woods. Bilba felt the babies scooting off her shoulders and onto him but was too tired to try and call them back. It didn't really matter anyway. If there was anyone in Erebor who could be trusted to look after baby dragons it was Vili.

A wave of dizziness washed over her, and her legs buckled. Vili went to a knee, slid an arm under her legs and easily swung her up into his arms.

Bilba grumbled a bit at being carried yet again, but her pride wasn't so great that she tried to stupidly insist she could walk. Instead she simply wound both arms around his neck and relaxed.

She was vaguely aware, at one point, of voices and the sensation of being transferred to a different set of arms. Under normal circumstances, this might have resulted in Bilba trying to draw a knife on someone, but since it was Vili handing her over, she simply mumbled a threat and curled against the new person.

She didn't react again until she felt her body being handed up onto the back of a dragon. An arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her back against a broad chest. Tiny claws dug into her thighs and waist as the baby dragons settled in and she managed to put her hands on them to ensure they stayed put.

Lifting off sent a rush of nausea through her, as well as a second wave of dizziness that had her as close to passing out as she'd come in at least a month. Fili was supporting all of her weight and she absently snuggled back even harder against him and tucked her head up under his chin.

_Land on the plateau when we get back._

Fili sighed. _Bilba._

She could literally feel his disapproval through the bond and would have rolled her eyes if she possessed the energy. Instead she simply mocked with _Fili,_ before adding, _I'll stay on Syrath._

 _Only because you'd fall over if you tried to get off,_ Fili replied dryly.

Bilba managed a shrug and then let her head loll back on his shoulder.

After what felt like an eternity, they began to spiral downward. Bilba was mildly aware of voices trying to speak to her but she couldn't quite seem to focus on them. They landed with a slight bump, and she forced her eyes open.

Three shadowy shapes loomed over them, two of them vastly dwarfing the third.

 _Do you just attract blades?_ Jarsun's voice asked her dryly. _Or are you simply not as proficient at fighting as you would have us all believe?_

 _Rude,_ Bilba managed to mutter.

The other large shape nipped at the first. _Be nice,_ Prygrasse told her mate firmly. _Can't you see the poor thing is hurt?_

 _When isn't she hurt?_ Jarsun growled back. He lowered his head to lightly nuzzle her and Bilba reached her good hand up to scratch his nose. Jarsun hated when she got hurt, it just so happened that his worry tended to come out a bit aggressive.

The third shadow, much smaller than the other two, leaned forward and resolved itself into the delicate form of Astrith. The young dragon's panicked arrival that morning had been the catalyst that had resulted in Bilba's entire day being turned upside down. Not that she blamed Astrith. It had been that idiot Tamrin and his merry band of morons.

Two small bumps on the dragon's head resolved themselves into her other two infants. The two on Bilba's legs both pushed up, squeaking anxiously. Normally Bilba would have lifted them up to her, but her arms felt like they weighed a ton and the thought even trying to lift her head off Fili's shoulder was exhausting.

"I got it," Fili slid one arm around her waist to anchor her, and then shifted enough to grab the babies one at a time and lift them up to their mother.

As he did, Bilba sighed and relaxed even further against him, practically melding into him. She fit her head into the groove of his shoulder and closed her eyes. Dimly she could hear Astrith speaking to her in her head but couldn't make out the words. She could guess what the dragon was saying though.

 _Fili,_ she managed to send tiredly. _Did Nori find Braxis yet?_

 _Not yet,_ he replied. _Get some rest. We'll figure it out tomorrow._

Bilba was reasonably certain it _was_ tomorrow but didn't have the energy to argue. _If anything bad happens, have Jarsun eat it._

Fili sighed. _You shouldn't encourage him._

 _He deserves to be encouraged,_ Bilba mumbled back, consciousness slowly draining away. _He's a good dragon._

 _He's a menace,_ Fili replied. _He tried to eat one of my uncle's councilors last week._

 _Your uncle's councilor warranted it,_ Bilba said calmly.

_Which begs the question of why you stopped Jarsun from doing it._

_I didn't want him to get indigestion._ Huh, she hadn't meant to admit that. Whatever. She heard Fili saying something but couldn't be bothered to pay attention. Instead, deciding other people could figure things out for a while, she gave up the last bit of fight she had left in her and fell asleep entirely.

***

Bilba slept so deeply that the process of waking up felt like she was dragging herself out of the depths of a lake. For several long moments she had no idea where she was, or even when. For the briefest second, a flash of fear ran through her that she might well be back in the mines, waking up sluggishly not because she'd slept so deeply but because she'd been starved or beaten nearly to death and her body lacked the energy to wake up.

**_You're in Erebor._ **

The voice sliced through the fog in her brain, dissipating it. She was in Erebor, not the mines, and lying in her oversized bed, not on the cold ground. She was no longer covered in filth, and her injured arm had been cared for and bandaged. _Thanks, Lyth. How is Astrith?_

**_Fine. They found where Braxis is. A nobleman in Rohan has him._ **

_Is that so? How did he pull that off?_ Bilba was more awake now but hadn't bothered to move or open her eyes yet. Not only was she still groggy, but she appeared to be sleeping sprawled across Fili's chest and didn't want to wake him.

 ** _I don't know._** Lyth replied. **_He denies it and, as yet, there is no proof Braxis is there._**

 _Has anyone tried to contact him?_ She finally opened her eyes to see the dim outline of her bedroom. From where she lay she could see the large windows that opened onto her balcony, the first rays of dawn just starting to creep over the ledge. _How long have I been asleep?_

 ** _All day!_** Syrath's voice broke in. **_I have been so bored!_**

 ** _Astrith thought she heard him once,_** Lyth reported, talking over Syrath, **_but he was confused, and couldn't say where he was._**

Bilba sighed. _All right. Give me a few minutes to get ready._

As she spoke, she grudgingly slid her arm off Fili's chest, and pushed slowly to a seated position. Her body was sore and felt a bit heavier than usual but, other than that, she was all right. Fili never moved next to her, sprawled on his back with his face turned away. His chest moved in slow, even breaths and his face was relaxed. Clearly he'd been more exhausted than he'd let on.

Carefully, she climbed off the bed, retrieved a change of clothes from the wardrobe and headed into the bathroom.

 ** _Thorin told Dwalin we can't cause any incidents with Rohan,_** Xalanth reported suddenly and Bilba paused with a frown.

 _I'm not going to cause an incident,_ she said with mock affront. _I'm just going to get Braxis back. Thorin worries too much._

Her bathing pool beckoned so she shut them all out in order to undress and slide into the water. Most bathing pools featured smaller, secondary pools that could be heated with firepits, but the ones on the royal level were all linked to a hot spring meaning the entire thing was constantly hot and she never had to worry about it growing cold.

She stayed near the edge to keep her bandaged arm out as much as possible and relaxed for probably longer than she'd initially intended. She dragged herself out finally, dressed in a loose tunic, shirt and boots, and then attempted to brush out and braid her hair.

Her pain was still being taken by her bonds, but she could feel the skin stretching uncomfortably as she tried to maneuver her arm, and soon gave up out of concern for ripping the stitches. Instead, she gathered the brush, hair tie and pins and strode back into the main room.

She climbed back on the bed, knelt next to Fili, and waited. After several long minutes, without moving or opening his eyes, he sighed and mumbled tiredly, "Don't you ever sleep?"

 _I slept for a full day according to Lyth._ Bilba answered. _That was long enough. I need you to do my hair so I can go get Braxis._

His eyes opened, and he frowned at her. "Do I even want to know the details?"

 _Probably not._ Bilba answered. He pushed to a sitting position and she moved to sit between his legs, handing back the brush as she did. He took it and, with a yawn, started working on her hair.

"All right, I'll bite," he said after a moment. "Where is Braxis?"

_Apparently a nobleman in Rohan has him._

The brush paused. "How in Durin's name did that happen?"

Bilba shrugged. _Maybe the necromancer helped, I don't know. We'll ask him when we get there._

"We can't just barge into Rohan," Fili said, resuming work on her hair.

 _Why are you in my bed?_ Bilba asked, blatantly ignoring the comment.

"Because I'd already moved my stuff in," Fili groused.

Bilba raised an eyebrow in spite of knowing he couldn't see it. Her father had gifted the suite of rooms to her and Fili as a wedding present. It allowed her to stay in her room, complete with the massive balcony and design that left it as open to the outside world as possible. He, in turn, had switched room with Fili, a move they'd completed the day before in anticipation of the wedding.

 _You could have slept in my father's old room,_ she said dryly, _or on the couch._

"I could have," Fili agreed. He tied off the end of her hair, now in a complex braid she could never duplicate, and then wrapped both arms around her waist and rested against her back.

_How did you get my father to agree to it?_

"Loudly and with a lot of gesturing." Fili stifled a yawn and lightly tugged on her, trying to get her to lie down again. "The sun is barely up. We could at least sleep a few more hours."

Bilba twisted free, turned and straddled his legs. She looped her arms around his neck and gave him a bright smile. _Every minute is one more Braxis has to suffer needlessly. Want to go get him with me?_

His eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Wait, you _want_ me to go? What happened to my never letting you have any fun?"

 _Oh, but this is going to be so much fun,_ Bilba said cheerfully. _Wear your fancy prince clothes._

"My fancy prince clothes?" Fili tilted his head back and studied her through narrowed eyes. "Tell you what. I'll go if you answer one question."

Bilba frowned. _What?_

He smirked. "Where's your sword?"

Bilba scowled at him, and then started scooting backwards, off the bed. _Forget it, I'm going to ask Warven to go. I'm sure he'd be thrilled._

Fili caught her around the waist, pulled her back and kissed her. Bilba pushed up on her knees so she was taller than him, always a plus, bracketed his face in her hands and returned the kiss, at least for a few minutes. Then she pulled back so she could look him in the eyes. _I know exactly where my sword is._

"Hmm," he smirked. "So if I sent someone to get it, you could direct them to it?"

Bilba gave him a dirty look and sat back down again. She knew generally where the sword was, but it had been dark, she'd been bleeding and there were a lot of stupid trees. She supposed she could always get Syrath to burn the damn forest down. That should make it easier to find.

Fili tightened his grip on her to get her attention. "It's probably a good thing I made you a new set as a wedding gift."

Bilba could almost feel her eyes light up. _You should thank me. If it weren't for me, you wouldn't be considered the best swordsmith this side of the Misty Mountains._

"I'm considered the best swordsmith on both sides of the Misty Mountains," Fili correctly dryly. "If I weren't a member of the royal family, I could have made a good living off it.”

 _You're welcome._ Bilba got off the bed, grabbed his hand and pulled at him. _Come on. Get dressed. I have a plan._

"That's not comforting." Fili obediently got up and headed to the wardrobe. As he started getting his formal attire out, he called over his shoulder, "You know, being a prince doesn't mean I can just go around making demands in other kingdoms. We'll have to go through Thengel if we want to get at one of his nobles."

 _Don't worry._ Bilba walked up and wrapped her arms around his waist, linking her hands over his stomach. She buried her face in the space between his shoulder blades and relaxed against him. _I have that all worked out already._

Fili clasped her hands in his, and then turned in her hold to look down at her. "What exactly are you planning?"

Bilba widened her eyes the way the court women did when they were trying to look innocent of something. Usually something they were not, in fact, innocent of. _I'm just going to send a message is all._

He frowned. "What message would that be?"

This time Bilba couldn't help the way her mouth slanted into a smirk, or the steel that suddenly lined her thoughts. _Don't mess with my damn dragons._

 


	7. Chapter 7

"What if they have archers?"

Bilba paused in the middle of pulling herself onto Syrath's back and looked over her shoulder. _What? Why would they have archers?_

"Why wouldn't they?" Fili argued. "He's a paranoid bastard."

 _Someone is certainly paranoid,_ Bilba agreed, turning to lean back against Syrath's shoulder, _but I'm not sure it's him._

Fili did not look amused. He was several feet below her and, she had to admit, looking down on him from that height was fun. Not that he seemed the least bit intimidated. Irritating.

They were in the dragon levels, almost empty now but for a few of the younger dragons and their harried parents. Bilba was wearing her light armor and weapons, including the new sword that Fili had gifted to her early since she had...misplaced the other one.

He, in turn, had his weapons and sword but hadn't yet put on his armor. Bilba doubted they'd need any of it, but she had an image she wanted to project on this _visit_ , and the armor and weapons were a big part of it.

Fili was giving her that look that said arguing would just end up wasting her time so, with a sigh, Bilba tilted her head toward Syrath. _Is Slyphe awake?_

Syrath turned his head back until it was mere inches from hers. He'd grown enough that his head alone was larger than her body, which was nice as it gave her a better perch when she needed to fire arrows. **_You must be joking._**

Bilba raised an eyebrow. _Do I look like I'm joking?_

 ** _I don't know_** _,_ Syrath said. **_Sometimes it's hard to tell_** _._

 _I could just call for her myself,_ Bilba said mildly. If she was asleep, it probably wouldn't do much as only her parents, Syrath or Varegeth could awaken her when she was out, but she'd give it a try.

Syrath gave her the dragon version of a scowl. **_You shouldn't encourage her. She's reckless enough._**

 _She's no worse than Varegeth was at that age._ Bilba replied.

Syrath gave her a look that suggested he begged to differ but did as she asked.

A commotion started from the nearby nursery area, and Fili turned to look, eyebrows raising. "Oh, you didn't."

She raised an eyebrow. _You were the one complaining about archers. She has the best eyesight of anyone and is small enough that she won't mess up my plan._

In the near distance, the figure of a baby drake spun around the corner. She somehow managed to trip over nothing, fell and rolled into the wall but was up immediately and continuing as if nothing had happened.  

A few seconds later she galloped straight into Syrath's leg, scrambled up and then was swirling up and around Bilba's body until she finally ended up perched on her shoulder, tiny chest heaving as she caught her breath.

"Lyth and Sardin are never going to agree," Fili warned.

Bilba raised an eyebrow before sending, _Is it okay if I borrow your daughter for a few hours? I promise she won't leave my sight,_ or theirs, since Sardin and Lyth wouldn't be all that far.

 ** _That's fine_** , Lyth sent back, while Sardin sent a similar sentiment a few minutes later. Bilba felt the tiniest bit of relief from both and figured they were probably excited for the free babysitting. Slyphe was a bundle of endless energy at the best of times and had the worst habit of getting herself into things. Bilba had lost track of the number of times she'd been asked to go rescue the tiny gold and bronze dragon from high shelves in the library, or random closets she'd wandered into and subsequently found herself trapped in when someone closed the door without seeing her.

 _They said it's fine,_ she sent to Fili with only the smallest bit of smugness. Lyth and Sardin knew she'd die before she allowed anything to happen to their daughter and, truly, Fili _was_ being paranoid. Bilba hadn't planned any of this to be dangerous. She was simply making a point. If she didn't, idiots all over Middle Earth might start thinking they could attack her through the dragons or, worse, that they could abduct a dragon and use it for Mahal only knew what.

Fili still didn't look happy so Bilba sighed, put a hand on Slyphe to keep her in place, and then stepped forward and right off Syrath's leg.

Fili caught her around the waist with ease, holding her so her feet didn't touch the floor. Bilba wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her forehead against his.

 ** _Slyphe quite enjoyed that_** , Syrath sent. **_She wants to do it again._**

 _Maybe later_ , Bilba told him with amusement.

 ** _Please don't_** , Sardin broke in. **_We're worried enough already about what she's going to get into once she can fly. She doesn't need any ideas._**

Bilba laughed. _Apologies, Sardin. I'll try my best to refrain._

Slyphe scooted off her shoulder until she was hanging onto the back of Bilba's shirt. Bilba felt her hesitate and then, in a quick move, leap off to land on Syrath again.

Knowing she could trust him to keep an eye on the little dragon, Bilba proceeded to kiss Fili quite soundly. He responded, only to pull back a few minutes later and say, "You know, you can't just kiss me any time you want to distract me from something."

Bilba kissed him again just because she could and then put her hands on his chest and pushed. He set her on her feet and loosened his hold, resting his hands lightly on her hips.

"You still look tired."

 _Well, that's just rude,_ Bilba retorted. Truth was, she _was_ tired, but she wasn't willing to leave Braxis in captivity any longer than necessary simply because she was a little fatigued. It wasn't just that he was a dragon, or that he had a worried mate and children waiting for him.

It was that he was _her_ dragon, just as much as Syrath or Lyth or Xalanth or any of the multitude of other dragons she'd bonded with. She may not be as close to them all, or even have met them all, but it didn't change the fact that she owed them all. If they needed her, all they needed to do was ask and she'd treat them no different than she treated Syrath.

Still, that didn't mean she was averse to stifling a large yawn and unwinding her arms from around Fili's neck to loop them around his waist and lean against him. He hugged her back and she snuggled into him, resting her head on his shoulder and closing her eyes. _You are unfairly comfortable._

He chuckled, the sound vibrating through her. "Since we're not on the subject, did you get a chance to ask my uncle to speak to Thengel?"

 _Thorin?_ Bilba asked innocently. _I just talked to Thengel myself. Well, I talked, and Frerin interpreted for me since Thengel isn't a rider._

Fili tensed. "Please tell me you didn't start a war with Rohan."

Bilba pulled back and took his face in her hands. _I did not start a war with Rohan._ She pushed up on her toes to kiss him and then pulled away again toward Syrath.

"You really should rest longer," Fili grumbled, choosing to not ask anything else about Thengel because he already knew he wouldn't like the answer.

 _I'll sleep on the way there._ Past him, Bilba caught sight of her father entering the level and felt her eyes widen at the thunderous scowl on his face.

"I don't like this," he stated flatly as he neared.

 _It won't be a problem_ , Bilba tried to assure him. _I won't be in any danger._

"This asshole is holding a dragon," Dwalin corrected, "and we have no idea how."

 _He's thinking about Belladonna_ , Fili said, and Bilba frowned up at him.

_This is entirely different._

_Not to him, it isn't._

Bilba grumbled to herself. This would have been much easier had she simply done it herself and then told everyone about it after. She went and wrapped both arms around her father. _How about if you come with me?_

His eyes narrowed. "Me and how many others?"

Bilba narrowed her own eyes. _One._

"Three," he growled.

 _Two_ , she countered, _and no royals. It'll ruin my fun._

Fili muttered something, but she simply grinned at him. He'd get his fun, her plan just called for it to be a little later was all.

"Fine," Dwalin growled, "but the first sign of something going wrong and I'm removing heads, Thengel be damned."

Bilba's grin grew wider. _I don't think he'd have a problem. He's very grateful for my gracious offer of aid._

"Your offer of what?" Fili asked in surprise.

Bilba stepped away from her father and slapped Fili lightly on the chest as she walked past. _Time to go! I'll get out two extra babysitters on the way. I've already got the perfect pair in mind._

"Why do I feel I won't like it?" Dwalin muttered as he followed her.

Bilba climbed up Syrath's shoulder, retrieved Slyphe from where she was sitting on one of his wings, and swung onto his back. _You'll love it. You'll see._

***

Her father did not love it.

Bilba could feel him simmering, literally could feel it through their bond. He wasn't mad at _her_ per se. He was angry at Tamrin and this idiot they were about to deal with. He was also tired and tended to get cranky, unlike Bilba who, according to others, got overly reckless and hyper.

He was riding behind her now, waves of irritation radiating off him. _I thought you said no royals._

Bilba rolled her eyes. Clearly she hadn't meant Frerin when she'd said that. He was currently riding on her left side, while Vili rode on her right. _I brought Vili too, that should make you happy._

Vili was simply married to a royal and therefore did not actually count as one.

Her father muttered something, but Bilba graciously ignored him. She was having a great day. She'd retrieved the babies, was about to get Braxis back, got to threaten an idiot in the process which would at least partly make up for Tamrin dying too fast, and _then_ she'd had a fantastic idea to boot. One she was sure Fili would agree to, hopefully.

 _That would depend on what it was,_ Fili's voice sounded in her head. _Your last great idea involved jumping off a dragon at high altitude and seeing if one at a lower altitude could catch you._

Bilba scowled. Her bond with Fili had grown to such an extent that they often tended to leak their thoughts and emotions to another without intending too. It wasn't so much a problem for him, but occasionally could be for her. The more excited she got, the higher the guarantee he was to hear about it.

She felt the horse shift beneath her as it adjusted to the hill they were climbing. Rohan looked mostly like a boring flat plain from the air. From the ground it was a boring plain with a lot of hills.

They crested the hill and there, just ahead of them, lay their destination. From air or land the estate was impressive, a massive mansion constructed of carved stone blocks. It was several stories high and must have housed dozens upon dozens of rooms.

The outside was just as ostentatious, squatting upon acres and acres of overdone gardens, and stuffed full of every kind of statue, fountain or other fancy thing that one could possibly think about. The entire thing was dedicated to showing off the wealth and rank of the person who owned it, even the location in the middle of absolute nowhere was probably designed to ensure no one could possibly compete with the home's opulence.

As they rode closer, Bilba noted that several statues depicted highly stylized dragons. Leaping, twirling, twisting in all manner of shapes and forms, they appeared more simple animals than intelligent, sentient beings.

"Looks like someone wishes he were a rider," Vili mused from next to her.

 _Looks like someone bought into the crap that dragons are just smart dogs,_ Bilba retorted. She'd met several non-riders who desperately wished they were riders. Some found a way to work alongside dragons, others simply dealt with it. Not one of them, to date that she'd met, had decided the way to go was to _kidnap a freaking dragon and hold it like a damn pet_.

They reached the bottom of the hill and continued riding until they'd reached the very edge of the vast green space that made up the idiot's lawn. Vaguely, Bilba wondered what it cost to keep it all watered, and how they managed considering they were, literally, in the middle of nowhere. She couldn't even picture where the nearest river was.

 _Maybe they get it from underground,_ Frerin said.

Perhaps, Bilba thought, and absently added the possibility to her plan. They'd need to check before they left. She did so like to be thorough in her work.

A long, wide walkway made from river rock which must have been imported wound lazily along the green space, deliberately laid out in a way that would show off much of the grounds as it made its way toward the front of the house.

"You'd think they'd have invested in a wall at some point," Frerin pointed out.

Bilba shrugged. _He's too arrogant to think he needs one and, besides, it'd detract from commoners getting to see his wealth as they pass by._

Vili frowned at her. "How do you know all that?"

 _I've met people like him before,_ Bilba said simply. _They tend to be much the same._

The weight on her back shifted and Slyphe slowly crept up until she could rest her head on Bilba's shoulder. Bilba lightly scratched the tiny dragon's head, before tilting her head to look at Frerin. _Would you mind getting their attention for us?_

 _Bilba_ , Fili practically growled in her head.

Bilba rolled her eyes. _Syrath would you kindly ask Slyphe if she sees any archers?_

On her shoulder, Slyphe squinted forward and then proceeded to dramatically dart her head from one of Bilba's shoulders to the other, before pushing up to look over her head as well a few times.

Bilba sighed, but let the small dragon have her fun. _Well?_

**_She says no._ **

Bilba twisted in her saddle and shot a sunny smile at her father. _See, I told you so. He thinks too highly of himself to have guards._

Her father glowered at her. _Cockiness gets you killed, brat. Once we get back I'm going to work on training that out of you._

Bilba's eyes narrowed and she huffed before twisting back around in her saddle.

 _Don't look to me for pity,_ Fili said before she could do anything. _I agree with him._

 _Great,_ Bilba shot back in mock anger. _Then you two can get married and I'll run away with Frerin._

Beside her, Frerin snorted. People who had far too much time on their hands had come up with the rumor years ago that the reason Bilba and Frerin spent so much time together was that they were secretly lovers. Why they didn't say that about her and Vili, who she spent just as much time with, Bilba had no idea but there it was.

Beside her, Frerin released his bow from where it had been strapped to the saddle, pulled an arrow from the quiver at his hip and nocked it to the bowstring.

Bilba felt the resignation from Fili and sent him the mental equivalent of a placating pat on the shoulder. _You're the one who gave me the arrow idea._

_Trust me, I regret it._

With Slyphe guiding his aim, courtesy of Syrath, Frerin released the arrow and they watched as it sailed on its way, cracking through the glass of a lower floor window and coming to a stop in a very expensive looking portrait on the far wall.

 _Oh, very nice,_ Bilba said approvingly.

 _I could have made that shot_ , Kili grumbled in her mind.

 _Next time don't shoot the bastard before I get a chance to gloat and maybe I'll let you_ , Bilba shot back.

Frerin drew a second arrow and Slyphe, now confident of the lack of archers, scrambled up to mostly sit on Bilba's head to get a better look. A second arrow, a second marred painting followed quickly by a third and a fourth one.

Before Frerin could send a fifth, the front door burst open and a man came huffing out. Tall and spindly and dressed in simple tunic and trousers, he looked rather nervous as he hurried toward them, casting anxious glances over his shoulder every few steps as if hoping to be called back.

 _Does that look like the master of the house to you?_ Bilba asked, tilting her head to look at Vili.

"It does not," Vili replied. "I'd say that is the Steward, or whatever is closest to it."

 _Hmmm_. Slyphe slid over her shoulder, carefully balancing and then half climbed, half fell into Bilba's lap in a heap of wings and limbs. She untangled herself in a truly impressive amount of time and sat up with her head up and chest out, casually surveying the area.

"You!" The man shouted as he drew near. "What are you doing? You will stop this at once! Do you have any idea whose ire you risk?"

"We do indeed," Frerin said, sounding as happy as Bilba felt. "The better question is, do you?"

 _Nice,_ Bilba silently applauded. _You sound like those annoying wizards._

The man huffed and then proceeded to literally stick his nose in the air. "You are trespassing on the estate of his Most Esteemed Lord Baldor the Wise". Bilba snorted, and the man proceeded to turn a look of pure disdain on her. "And _you_ are?"

"This," Frerin said, even more cheerful than before, "is Orcrist. You may have heard of her."

The man started to sneer, only to stop as his eyes zeroed in on Slyphe where she was seated on Bilba's lap. The expression on his face turned downright greedy, and his voice became crafty when next he spoke. Bilba was honestly surprised he managed to refrain from rubbing his hands together in glee.

"Could it be you've heard of my Lord's desire to own a dragon and have come to offer him one in the hopes of currying his favor?"

Bilba frowned. Did he just completely overlook the fact that she was associated with the royal family of Erebor and had no need of the favor of some no account lordling with an inflated ego?

 _More likely they don't consider the royal family of Erebor to be all that significant_ , Fili said. _I've met some idiots in the world who are convinced Erebor is little more than a hill with a population of a dozen or so._

 _Even if that were true,_ Bilba answered. _Dragons._

Fili laughed and then settled back into the near constant presence she always felt in the back of her mind.

"Oh, we're quite aware of your master's desire for a dragon," Vili chimed in. "We've been hearing about it all day, in fact, from the one he's already imprisoned."

The man blinked at him, and then blinked again. "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about." He frowned at Bilba suddenly. "Surely the lady can speak for herself on the matter, or do you usually have lackeys do your talking for you?"

 _I'm about to let my axe do my talking for me,_ Dwalin said casually from behind them. He'd been doing an admirable job of not killing the idiot. Bilba was impressed.

"She wouldn't dream of lowering herself," Frerin replied. "Besides, we really aren't here for that. We're here to give you a warning."

"I beg your pardon?" the man asked.

"You may not," Frerin said flatly.

Beside him, Bilba cocked her head to one side as Pygrasse contacted her. **_We found him. It took a bit of time, but he's fine. I can't say the same for the idiots guarding him. They were keeping him in a pit of all things and trying to train him as if he were a dog. They also shot at us. I roasted them._**

There was an undertone of very real anger in the otherwise calm dragon's tone, and that was the reason that, in the end, Bilba's plan wasn't really all that overly dramatic. A message needed to be sent, not just to the people targeting dragons, but to the dragons themselves.

"Your master has exactly..." Frerin paused as he considered for a moment, "a half hour to entirely vacate the manor before it and all his lands are forfeit for the crime of attacking a dragon."

The man gaped at him, literally gaped. Then he started laughing. "You must be joking."

"Not at all," Vili said calmly. "You now have about twenty-nine minutes."

"Really?" the man mocked. "And by whose authority and power, exactly, do you think you will accomplish this?" he gestured toward Bilba. "Hers? She may have a few dragons, but do you really think she could simply attack anyone she pleases without consequence?"

Frerin smiled, and not at all a nice one. "Your master believed he could take a dragon without consequence, didn't he?"

Overhead, a roar rang out. The man jerked his head up, just in time to see the shapes of Pygrasse and Jarsun bursting through a very convenient and welcome cloud bank that had moved in during the morning. Clearly, Bilba thought, the Valar approved of her plan.

Two more shapes came through, one of them moving sluggishly and Bilba saw the startled look from the man's face as he recognized Braxis, soaring along beside Astrith.

The four landed a few minutes later, Jarsun and Pygrasse to one side, Astrith and Braxis to the other. The mottled gray and brown dragon looked tired and quickly lay down once he'd landed, causing Bilba to frown in concern. _Are you all right?_

 ** _I'm fine_** , he returned tiredly. **_Those assholes drugged me._**

 _You can return to Erebor if you wish_ , Bilba told him. _We can provide an escort. We'll handle things here._

 ** _No_** , he answered at once. **_I want to see this through._**

 _As you will_ , Bilba replied.

"Braxis has given us a full rundown of exactly what you did to him," Vili said. "And you now have about twenty-five minutes."

The man snorted, though he did look at least a tiny bit uneasy for the first time. "Nonsense. Only a rider can supposedly 'hear' a dragon, and no king of Rohan would take a rider's word for anything. You move against my master and you'll start a war."

"Are you quite sure of that?" Frerin asked.

He gestured almost lazily over his shoulder. The man's eyes followed the movement, and Bilba watched as the color drained from his face.

Bilba didn't have to look to know exactly what he was seeing. Over the hill behind them more horses were coming, in six separate groups.

There was the Thain of the Shire with several of his family members. With the passing of Gerontius, her grandfather; his son Isengrim had reached out to mend the relationship with Dwalin. Bilba wouldn't say they were close, but they at least talked from time to time which was more than before.

Next came Elrond with his sons, followed by Arathorn and his wife with Aragorn and Arwen by their side. It had taken years for Aragorn to move on from the loss of Barahir and there were still days when he would become melancholy or simply stare off into space until someone reminded him where he was.

After them, came Thorin with Dis, Fili and Kili flanking him. Fili, as requested, had worn his fancy prince clothes as had all the royals save Frerin who simply didn't own any. Thranduil was near Thorin, his son Legolas at his side and then, there, in the center of the line and slightly ahead of them all rode Thengel, the King of Rohan, with his family. Behind all six groups rode contingents of soldiers from all six kingdoms, outfitted in full armor and weapons.

"Summon your lord," Thengel ordered as he came to a stop beside Vili. "Immediately."

"Twenty-five minutes," Frerin said as the man turned to scurry back into the house.

It was only a few minutes later that the man returned, this time behind another man who was doing his very best to hustle without looking like it. He was also in the process of dragging on heavy looking robes and chains, clearly in the hope of looking as important as he thought he was.

"Your Majesty," he intoned, dropping to a knee before Thengel's horse. He lifted his head and stood, without being given permission Bilba noted, and said, "I don't know what these people have told you, Your Majesty, but surely you know that--"

"Silence," Thengel ordered, and the Lord, Baldor or whatever it had been, snapped his mouth shut. "You have trespassed against the dragons, a sovereign race, and have thus earned their ire. You have twenty minutes to gather your people to be brought to Edoras. In the meantime, your lands and title are forfeit to the dragons as reparations for your crime."

Lord Not-The-Brightest stared at Thengel in wide eyed shock before saying, "Your Majesty, you must be joking. I mean--" he gestured at where Braxis was resting with his head on Astrith, which was interesting as his Steward had denied ever capturing a dragon at all, let alone that one. "It's just a dragon."

In Bilba's lap, Slyphe hissed. The lord looked at her and then gestured. "You see? The mute has one as a pet. Surely, it's not so bad a thing that I would wish one? It seems rather unfair that only so-called riders should get access to them. Just think of all the uses we could find for--"

His voice trailed off as he slowly realized how utterly still and silent the entire group had become. Behind them all Pygrasse and Jarsun had both risen only to lower themselves toward the ground in what was clearly a hunting pose.

"I can see I have been far too kind," Thengel said finally, voice like stone. He raised a finger, and, behind him, his soldiers moved forward.

"Your Majesty?" asked the one in front.

"Empty the house," Thengel ordered, "and take this fool into custody. Allow no property to be removed."

 _Harsh_ , Fili said in Bilba's mind. _Not everyone in the house is guilty. What exactly did you say to him?_

 _The truth_ , Bilba replied. _That Rohan lay on the very cusp of a war with the dragons, and there was little any of us could have done to stop it._

Too long had the wild dragons been harassed now, and far too little had been done about it. There had always been bad information about dragons and their riders, rumors and outright myth but, in recent years, it had grown so much worse, so much more widespread.

Word that riders didn't exist, and it was all just a lie to keep dragons in certain, privileged circles. That they were merely beasts, capable of being trained like any other if you got them young enough. That they could be used as a messenger service, to pull carts or to protect homes and properties.

Bilba had even heard some whispers of a desire to fight them, to build an arena much like the one she'd been forced into in Moria, but this one for dragons.

There were other whispers she'd heard too, and more now that this had all happened. Attacks and harassment of dragons, attempts to steal eggs and younger dragons, and a slowly rising anger that Bilba had been vaguely aware of but hadn't truly recognized.

Not until this, when someone had taken baby dragons, and a young adult. Anger had exploded into something more and a few of the younger, hot headed dragons had wanted to start meting out their own form of justice. It wasn't just Men who were responsible, or just Rohan, but they had become the symbol for every injustice the dragons had suffered.

Bilba hadn't been joking when she'd said Thengel wouldn't be a problem. All she'd done was sit him down, with Frerin beside her to interpret, and told him the absolute truth. The dragons were pissed, and Rohan was quickly becoming the physical representation of a nameless, faceless enemy they'd been fighting for years.

"Ten minutes," Frerin said from beside her. A glance at the house showed Thengel's soldiers coming out, escorting a group of servants and a woman who appeared to be the lord's wife. There were no children, for which Bilba was grateful.

 ** _They're coming_** , Pygrasse said in her mind.

Bilba raised her head and watched as a dragon punched through the cloud deck overhead. This one was quickly followed by another, and another after that. Within a few minutes the sky overhead was lit by a swirling mass of dragons of every color, from every race. Many of them were shooting fire as they twirled and spun and, for a second, Bilba found herself transported back to the moment all those years ago when she'd knelt at the entrance to Moria and watched the sky burn.

Tiny talons gripping her shirt pulled her back to reality as Slyphe clambered up her chest to partially balance on her shoulder as she watched the dragons overhead.

"Are those all wild dragons?" Frerin asked next to her. "I didn't realize there were so many."

Bilba reached out and found herself bonded to many of those in the sky but it was almost as an afterthought for both. There were just so many of them and only one of her but, even so, she needed to do better. All of this was partly on her. What good was it to be bonded to almost all the world's dragons if she couldn't help them when they needed it or stop them from declaring war on a kingdom?

More dragons appeared overhead, and these she recognized. Lyth, Xalanth, Sardin, Syrath, Varegeth and more. Pygrasse and Jarsun took off to join them, while Astrith and Braxis chose to remain below.

Slyphe was preparing to jump off her, so Bilba lowered her gaze to properly transfer the small dragon over to Vili. As Sardin's rider, he spent a lot of time with the little dragon and it was no surprise to see her quickly curl up in his lap and fall asleep.

The lord was still babbling to Thengel, but he was being ignored as the king of Rohan kept his head up, watching the display overhead. His solders had gathered everyone into a group and began to lead them away, back over the hill and toward a wagon that had been brought specifically to move them to Edoras. Once there, the servants, and possibly the wife if she could prove she knew nothing, would be offered positions. Lord Baldor would be exiled.

Overhead, the dragons turned as a wave to face the estate down below. Thorin barked an order and, as one, the groups of horses and royals began to move backwards, away from the land. The word of what happened here would spread, hopefully warning future idiots while simultaneously placating the dragons.

A hand reached out to grab her horse's bridle and she shot an amused look at Fili as he pulled her horse around to back away from the lawn. _I was going to move._

"Sure you were," Fili said.

They reached a safe spot, just before the hill and turned back to watch. Overhead, Pygrasse, Jarsun, Lyth and Xalanth took up position in front of the veritable army of dragons. They roared and were quickly joined by the voices of the other dragons, echoing through the air like the rumble of thunder.

Then, as one, they dove.

***

Bilba stood at the top of the hill and watched the estate of Lord Thought-He-Could-Steal-A-Dragon-And-No-One-Would-Notice burn to the ground.

Soon, it'd be little more than a black scorch mark upon the land, a reminder to everyone of what happened when you pissed off the dragons long enough and hard enough. Most of the wild dragons had left, while the ones from Erebor and the other kingdoms were lounging about the plains.

Pulling her eyes away, Bilba locked them on where Fili stood idly watching the fire burn. She headed over, wrapped an arm around his waist, used it to swing around his body and then pushed up on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck.

"I don't trust you," Fili said, eyes narrowing, but he also didn't resist when she went to kiss him. Instead he hooked his fingers into her belt and used it to drag her up against his body. Bilba pulled away as much as he allowed and put her hands on his shoulders.

_I have an amazing idea._

He frowned. "I think I already told you my impression of your 'amazing ideas'."

Bilba rolled her eyes. _You'll like this one. Let's get married._

He gave her a confused look. "I thought we were doing that already, eventually, once emergencies stop happening every five seconds."

 _I mean right now_ , Bilba said. _Everyone is here, we're all dressed already. We can get married now and then do the fancy feast thing when we get back._

Fili started to object, and then stopped as he considered. "You want to get married in front of a giant fi--" he cut off with a sigh. "Never mind, of course you do."

 _You should say yes_ , Bilba said, bouncing a little on her toes as pent up energy surged through her. _If we wait Morgoth might come back or something equally awful._ She ran her hands down his arms and grinned at him. _Besides, the sooner we get married the sooner we can leave for Shire for the two weeks I got Thorin to agree to let us have._

He looked startled, and then a pleased grin crossed his face. "Did you now? Who's going to take my spot in Council meetings?"

"I am," Kili groused as he walked past, "and you'll owe me for it for the rest of your life."

 _It's my wedding present to you_ , Bilba said cheerfully. _Well, not Kili being on the Council. The Shire. Just you and me, and my father of course and probably a contingent of security and dragons and such, but as close to you and me as it ever gets._

He considered her. "You know, the more I think about it the more I like this idea of yours."

Bilba grinned, kissed him quickly and then looped her arm through his. _Then shall we find Thorin and see if we can set an Ereborean record for the shortest wedding in history?_

He nodded, with a grin of his own. "I think that sounds like an excellent idea. Let's go."

And so they did, and soon enough Bilba found herself marrying her One surrounded by her family, friends, dragons and a massive fire in the background.

It was perfect.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, with that, we have another completed story! Woot! :D Since I seem to trend toward three ongoing stories at a time no matter what I do, I'll be posting a new story soon to go alongside "Little Swan Lost" and "She Walks in Shadow." It'll be a Bilba/Kili Star Wars AU continuing off the first chapter I posted a few years ago in my Baby Fic story (I've re-edited and tweaked it a tiny bit but it's essentially the same chapter/beginning so feel free to go check that one out if you want a preview!). Thank you for journeying with me on this one and I hope to see you on the others as well! :D :D

In Moria, Bilba had grown used to being awakened by screams, crying, or the all too familiar feel of a foot in her ribcage.

After she'd left, it had been the nightmares that woke her. She hadn't had any while she'd been living them but, after, they'd been there every time she closed her eyes. Sleeping curled up next to Syrath had been the only thing that kept them at bay.

Once Morgoth had been defeated she was generally only awakened by Fili or someone else coming to pull her out of her dreams of flying and back to where her feet were firmly, and unfortunately, locked to the stone beneath her boots.

Now, days after her wedding, she found herself being awakened by the over-energetic crickets outside the window. It was her own fault, she supposed. She'd asked to have the window open, not considering the fact it was positioned directly over their heads.

Perhaps the only thing more annoying than the insects was the fact that Fili was so utterly unaffected by them. He was sprawled out on his back beside her, face turned away and chest moving in the slow, even rhythm of sleep.

Jerk.

With a sigh, she slid her hands down to the mattress and pushed up to a seated position. She started to pull her knees up, only to stop mid-way as she realized the movement would lift the blanket and probably disturb Fili. Sleeping with a second person in the bed took more getting used to than she'd thought it would.

She pulled her legs free carefully, and then drew her knees up and absently draped her arms around them.

There was a full moon outside and a shaft of light shone through the window onto the bed. It cast an odd play of shadows and silver light across the muscles and grooves of Fili's chest, glinted off his hair and made him look almost otherworldly. Almost like a creation of a dream, something that might fragment and vanish at a moment's notice.

It had been well over a decade since the mines and yet there was still a small corner, a very small one, tucked away in the darkest recesses of her mind that remained convinced that's exactly what it all was.

Just a dream.

Perhaps one day she'd wake up and find herself still in the mines.

Or maybe her body had finally given in and she was dying, and instead of her life flashing before her eyes it was a life she'd merely wished for.

She shivered in the cold air coming through the window and carefully climbed off the bed to grab her robe and pull it over the thin nightdress she'd worn to bed. Her hair was down, and she took a moment to grab a ribbon to tie it back before padding silently from the room.

Primula and Bofur had been incredibly gracious to invite them to stay in Bag End, and even more so to put them in one of the farthest rooms to give them as much privacy as possible.

The downside of that was Bilba had to be exceptionally quiet as she moved past every single room, lest she wake up the other four occupants of the smial.

Four, and very soon to be five, and therein lay the reason Primula hadn't been able to attend her wedding. She and Bofur expected to welcome their newest child any day now, and the last thing either wanted to risk was her going into labor on dragon-back.

Bilba reached the kitchen and quietly pulled out the ingredients to make hot chocolate. She didn't want to risk tea for fear of the kettle waking anyone up, and coffee had too strong a smell and might cause the exact same problem.

Once she was finished, she poured two cups and headed for the front door where she managed to successfully open it whilst balancing both cups. Once open, she paused for a moment to simply take in the sight of the Shire stretching out before her, bathed in a moonlight so bright she could almost pretend it was day.

Then she took a deep breath of fresh air simply because she could and stepped out. The cobblestones of the walkway were cold under her feet, but she ignored it and simply lifted one foot to pull the door closed before heading down toward the front gate.

Her father was little more than a moonlit shadow seated on Bag End's front bench, but she saw him lean over to push the gate open as she neared. Bilba easily skirted around it, handed her father one of the cups and then curled up on the bench next to him. She drew her legs up, tucking them carefully under her robe and nightgown, wrapped one arm around them and settled her mug lightly on her knees.

For a long time, the two simply sat quietly next to one another, drinking their hot chocolate and studying the serenity of the Shire under a blanket of stars.

"I used to sit with your mother out here," her father finally said, pausing to lift his mug to his lips.

Bilba nodded. _I know. She used to tell me about it._ She looked up, studying the canopy of stars overhead. It seemed like there were millions of them, countless points of light glittering like diamonds spread across black velvet. _She said you would take her flying sometimes, and how much she wanted to do it again. I used to pretend it was me, sitting behind you, soaring through the sky._

It was the only times she'd ever felt truly free back then and she'd pictured it often, despite the pain caused by eventually having to return to the soul crushing reality that was life in the mines.

Her father set his mug down suddenly and then stood up, facing her and holding his hand out. "Come on."

Bilba raised an eyebrow. _Come on, what?_

"Let's go flying," her father said gruffly. He frowned, and then gestured at her clothing. "Not in that, you'll freeze your arse off. Get dressed and I'll meet you at the field." He hesitated, then nodded and simply turned and walked off down the path.

Bilba stared at him in surprise, and then jumped up, excitement welling inside her. She grabbed the two mugs and darted back inside, depositing them in the kitchen before quietly, but quickly, racing back to her room.

Once in, she dropped the robe and nightgown and pulled on her tunic and trousers before sitting down to tug her boots on.

"What are you doing?" a voice asked, and she looked up to see Fili pushed up on his elbows, watching her.

Bilba went and sat on the edge of the bed, leaned forward and kissed him soundly. He slid one hand up to the back of her head and she gripped his upper arm to lean in closer. Her stomach twisted and her toes literally curled in her shoes before, with reluctance, she pulled away. _Going flying with my father._

"Hmm." He settled onto his back again, one hand idly trailing along her arm and down to her hip and thigh. "Sounds like fun." He yawned, before suddenly scowling and reaching a hand up to shove the window closed. "Damn bugs, were they this loud the last time?"

Bilba laughed and put a hand on his chest for a second before getting up. _Try to get some sleep. I'll probably wake you up when I get back._

He chuckled and rolled onto his side, grabbing her pillow and curling around it without seeming to realize he was doing it. "I'll look forward to it," he mumbled, shutting his eyes and relaxing back into the mattress.

Bilba shook her head, and then got up and left. She forced herself to walk slowly and quietly until she got out and pulled the door closed, and then broke into a run, vaulting the fence and jogging down the path toward the garrison and the fields.

The dragons that had come with their escort were all silent lumps curled around themselves. As Bilba neared she spotted a tiny form racing to one end of the field, before turning and racing back only to repeat the entire process.

 ** _She refused to settle down_** , Sardin's voice came, tiredly. **_So I challenged her to find out how many times she could run back and forth across the field. Silently._**

The tiny figure raced toward her and, a moment later, Slyphe was spiraling up her body to wind up in her arms. Bilba covered a flinch as the small creature landed on her still healing arm and gently repositioned her to get the weight off.

The small dragon stared at her in excitement, eyes huge and panting happily.

 _I think you've got a way to go, Sardin_ , Bilba said dryly.

 ** _I know_** , he returned sadly. **_Remind me to apologize to my parents when we get back to Erebor. They insist she's exactly like me._**

Bilba set Slyphe back down and she immediately darted off to resume galloping back and forth across the field.

Dwalin was waiting near where Xalanth was already up and waiting. Syrath and Varegeth were on either side of him.

 ** _Is it okay if we go too?_** Syrath asked.

Bilba nodded, and the two dragons immediately jumped up and waited in almost as much excitement as Slyphe.

Her father reached a hand down from where he stood on Xalanth's haunch and, to her surprise, Bilba felt her stomach twist with nerves. She'd certainly ridden with her father before, and even on Xalanth, but that had always been in battle or simply getting from one place to another.

She'd never simply gone flying with the two of them the way her mother had always spoken about. The way Bilba had always dreamed about.

 _"It was amazing,"_ she remembered her mother saying, as she gazed off into the distance as if she saw stars instead of rock and darkness. _"Soaring through the sky, so far up that no one and nothing could ever touch us."_

Her mother's voice would always grow so wistful when she spoke about it and, more than once, Bilba had seen her wipe away tears before forcing a smile and changing the subject.

Bilba's own vision wavered, blurring her father and, for just an instant, his image merged with the younger version of him she'd seen in his memories, standing in the same position and reaching his hand out for his wife.

"You all right?" her father asked.

Bilba nodded and gave herself a shake. _Yeah. I'm fine._

She clambered up onto Xalanth's foot and then reached her good arm up. Her father grabbed it and easily pulled her onto the dragon's back. He settled in front and Bilba sat behind him. She felt a slight movement and turned her head to see Syrath's head up alongside her.

 _I'm all right_ , she assured him, patting his nose. He nuzzled her for a second and then pulled away again to where Varegeth was waiting.

They took off a moment later. Bilba hunched down, feeling the all too familiar press of air down on her body followed by the plummeting of her stomach. Xalanth angled steeply, pulling into the air. Bilba grabbed her father's shirt and leaned back to watch the ground fall away. She saw Syrath and Varegeth push up after them and waved before turning back to watch their ascent.

She had flown at night with Fili shortly after meeting him, taking him far up on Syrath before plummeting toward the ground in a freefall.

The fact he'd enjoyed it should have been an immediate tipoff that they were destined for one another, but she'd been too angry, and too frightened if she were honest, to see it. Not for quite some time.

Xalanth leveled out and Bilba relaxed with a sigh, listening as the wind rushed past her ears. Below was nothing but black and the occasional dot of light from a campfire or small settlement.

Syrath and Varegeth settled in on either side of them, Varegeth virtually invisible against the black of the sky while Syrath appeared as little more than a dark shadow.

In the distance, Bilba caught sight of the dark shadows that delineated the Blue Mountains. Somewhere between there and the Shire lay a spot in the road where her mother's caravan had been attacked, and her mother dragged into slavery.

Bilba had never taken the path to the Blue Mountains, she'd flown the few times she'd visited. Every single time she'd looked down as she went and wondered exactly where it was that the attack had taken place, and how many times she'd flown over it completely oblivious.

She could probably find it if she really wanted to. Her mother had described it often enough, and her father had been there.

All she'd see if she did was an empty patch of dirt. There was nothing to mark it, nothing to tell travelers what had taken place there all those years ago. The world could be cold like that, a witness to brutality and then covering all evidence it had ever taken place. As if it never even mattered.

A shiver ran over her. Bilba pushed up, bracing her hands on her father's shoulders and carefully moved over his leg so she could sit in front of him. She braced her hands on Xalanth's back and leaned forward, her eyes already being drawn back down again.

An arm wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her back. "Stop focusing on what you can't change," her father said.

Bilba chuckled. _You're one to talk._

He laughed in turn. "I'll try if you will."

Bilba inclined her head in agreement and leaned back against him, turning her face back up toward the stars. _She said you used to point out different stars to her, that you'd tell her all their histories._

Her father nodded and pointed up toward a particularly bright star almost directly over their heads. As he started talking, she relaxed and did as he had suggested. He was right.

It was always better to look up.

***

It was a long time later that Bilba quietly let herself back into the bedroom she was sharing with Fili. She changed into her nightgown, pulled the ribbon free from her hair and then crawled back under the covers.

She'd barely settled before the mattress shifted and then Fili was braced on his forearms over top of her. "Did you have fun?"

Bilba reached up to lightly run her fingers along the side of his face, tucking an errant strand of hair behind his ear. _I did._

He leaned down to kiss her, and she lazily looped her arms around his neck. Then, in one smooth motion, she calmly hooked a leg around his hip and flipped them. Fili ended up on his back with Bilba straddling his waist.

Fili raised an eyebrow and absently ran his hands up her thighs, sending a bolt of energy right through her in the process. "Problem?"

Bilba shrugged. _I just feel like irritating you._

She got like this sometimes. It was almost like she was channeling Slyphe, brimming over with energy and needing to let it out. Usually, it happened right after a fight, or sometimes before a fight, or when she hadn't been able to fight in a few days and, generally, it manifested in her hyperactively harassing Fili. He was used to it, and it was common for him to be seen sitting at a desk working on something while she was draped over his back and shoulders.

 _Maybe we should open the window again_ , Bilba said innocently. She pushed up and reached for the latch, only to have the action cut off as Fili suddenly twisted, intending to reverse their positions back to where they originally had been.

Unfortunately, he failed to consider how close they were to the edge of the bed and they both let out twin shouts of surprise as they proceeded to roll right off in a tangle of limbs and blanket. Through an impressive feat of...something, Fili managed to maneuver mid-air so that he ended up on the bottom with Bilba on top of him.

Bilba gave him a worried look. _Are you hurt?_

She had no doubt that her landing on him hurt less than him landing on her would have, but that didn't mean it hadn't _hurt_.

"Just my pride," he grumbled, "and possibly my tailbone."

He grinned at her and Bilba laughed. She leaned forward and pressed her face into his neck for a second and then pulled away to start trying to untangle from the blankets. Fili helped and together they somehow managed to kick free.

Fili got up and pulled her to her feet only to then pick her up and drop her unceremoniously on the bed. He then grabbed the blanket off the floor, climbed back on and dragged the blanket completely over both of them before, once more, bracing on his forearms over her.

Bilba raised an eyebrow even though she knew he couldn't see it in the sudden darkness. _What's that supposed to accomplish?_

 _Trust me_ , he said. _Do me a favor. Block everything out. All of it._

That request earned him another raised eyebrow he couldn't see. They'd already _been_ blocking out their soul bonds when they wanted some alone time, but she'd left her mental links open in case someone needed to contact her. Blocking them would mean no one could talk to her until she reopened them again.

 _It'll be fine_ , Fili said. _Your father can handle things, or mine, or the dragons. An escort came with us for a reason. I doubt anything will happen in the next hour or so that they can't handle._

She frowned. _What if Azog decides to attack the Shire again?_

 _That would be incredibly convenient timing_ , he said dryly. _Not to mention why in the world would he?_

 _He would if he knew we were here_ , Bilba explained logically. _And, before you ask, giant dragons, Fili. They're kind of hard to miss._

She could almost feel him rolling his eyes. _In that case, they can run down the hall and physically get us. We can go kick Azog's ass and then proceed to sit in awkward silence until the next thing tries to kill us._

Bilba considered, and then sighed. _Fine._

She closed off her bonds, and then followed it with her mental links. There was usually chatter in her mind, that she'd long gotten so used to she rarely noticed it anymore...until it all went silent. It was the strangest thing. She'd spent most of her life with silence in her mind in Moria, but now it felt as if it were entirely unnatural.

Fili shifted, and that was strange too because she'd shut him off as well. She was so used to having him in her head almost as if part of her _was_ him, and vice versa.

"Much better," Fili muttered, almost to himself. "Just you and me, no outside distractions."

Bilba started to respond, only to realize she couldn't with her link closed, so she settled for smacking him on the shoulder instead.

He chuckled. "Fair point. If you can't talk, I shouldn't be able to either."

With that he bent his head to kiss her, hard. Bilba wrapped her arms around him and responded with enthusiasm. He had a point, she admitted. It was nice to have it just be the two of them.

And to think he'd once been at the top of her "Kill When They Aren't Looking" list.

She was glad she'd moved him off it. Not only did it work out well for her, but it left an opening for the damn crickets.

Seriously, she could hear them through the _wall_.

They were definitely going on the list, after orcs, bandits and goblins.

Possibly before goblins.

_Or...._

Or she could just catch all the crickets and dump them on the goblins.

Fili pulled away from where he'd been kissing her in the juncture of her neck. "Do I even want to know?"

Bilba simply grinned and dragged him back down again.

She'd tell him in the morning.

He'd love it, she was sure.

She had excellent ideas.


End file.
